


Final Fantasy VII - Sidequest

by Papallion



Series: Final Fantasy VII - Sidequest [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Adult Content, Body Horror, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mild Gore, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 01:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 65,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion
Summary: Cid, Vincent and Yuffie get their own side adventure.  This work focuses on the slow development of Cid and Vincent's relationship, with Yuffie along as the annoying little sister.  Please let me know if I can tag anything.  There are a few instances of drinking, and of course Cid and Barret swear.





	1. FFVII Sidequest - 01 - The Boot Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to correct me, beta read me, follow my Tumblr  
> http://papallion.tumblr.com/  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid manages to annoy everyone today. He cannot trust a man without emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to 234am for betaing for me! I hadn't realized how many little mistakes I had made!  
> Please, feel free to correct me. I would like to share a quality project with the world, and I don't mind being corrected! It's the only way to Learn and Move Forward!
> 
> This story includes locations not in the game to fill out the world.  
> East Port is a small town down river from Rocket Town.  
> Vincent comes from Arcata, a city in a small country called Gali. His native tongue is AEspira and he still carries a soft accent. Gali managed to resist Shinra during the war that toppled Wutai and Shinra pulled back, realizing Gali had no real resources or assets to exploit. Galians are known for being formal and restricted.  
> Death Gigas and Hellmasker are stupid and will be ignored.  
> Cid comes from a coast city near Midgar, Gold Palm, and has no real accent. He’s also ambiguously brown. He's uncensored, but I don't think I made him crass enough.  
> Yuffie speaks with a sharp Fēnyīn accent. Google translates ‘Wind Music’ as Fēng yīnyuè, so using the first of the words gives us Fēnyīn.
> 
> I'm not happy with the name Sidequest but couldn't think of a good name, so that MIGHT change if a good one comes up, but most likely I'll just hang with Sidequest. 
> 
> I'm sorry I keep updating previous chapters, but I'm writing as I go.

The Tiny Bronco could go no further, and they were now forced to camp for the night.  Cid had repaired the tank as best he could, and now their only hope was that East Port, the nearest city down river, had a good selection of parts and fuel.  He didn’t have hopes of getting her airborne again, but he could at least fix the engine and refuel her.

He was now watching Vincent as Vincent watched the river.  Cid had to admit the pale man was good looking, so it was natural the girls would fawn over him.  He was tall, with almond eyes an unsettling shade of crimson and skin with an ivory undertone. He had no expressions, though, which was a shame and a waste of a perfectly good face.  Cid had heard of red eyes, but never seen them in person. Where was he from? He had an accent Cid just couldn’t place.

“I don’t trust him,” Cid muttered as he eyed Vincent.  “I never trust anyone who doesn’t eat lunch.” Fleeing Rocket Town had been hard on all of them, but the pale brunet didn’t seem phased at all.  He showed no emotion as he stood at the edge of camp, arms crossed and watching the river they had just travelled down. He politely declined Aerith’s offer of dinner, and she pushed the bowl towards him again.  

“I know it’s not much,” Cid heard her say, “but you must keep your strength up!  You’ve been sleeping for so long! Dinner will be good for you!” Tifa had made him broth, since it seemed Vincent hadn’t eaten in almost thirty years.  What the hell?

His voice was deep and even.  “I’m fine.”

Who was he to ignore such a nice young girl?  “Eat your soup, ya ingrate!” Cid snapped, startling Aerith and making the others look up.  “We worked hard on it, so you best appreciate it!” It hadn’t taken long for Nanaki to catch the rabbits, and Aerith managed to find several handfuls of edible roots that didn’t taste half bad once Tifa was done with them.  And now Vincent was wasting it by letting Aerith spill some on his sleeve. Even the damned robot cat pretended to eat!

Why did they even HAVE that thing?

Vincent didn’t even raise an eyebrow, but he wiped the spilled soup from his arm.  “Very well.” He took the bowl and drank deeply, and Cid watched until he finished his broth.  “Satisfied?”

“Do the dishes!” Cid snapped in return, and Vincent blinked.  Without a word he collected the bowls and silverware and walked to the small creek they had camped by.  

“Cid, don’t be so rude!” Tifa scolded.  She followed him to the creek to help with the washing.  The small camping cook set was her true joy in the wilderness, carried all the way from Nibleheim, and she had argued with Cid about keeping it.  In the end, he agreed it was a good idea and let her keep it on the Tony Bronco. Almost everything else had been jettisoned to keep the plane from sinking, and it was some of the few supplies they had.

They had no proper tents, and instead were using a ground cloth to sleep on, and they huddled for warmth.  There was, of course, a brief argument over who got to sleep next to Nanaki, and Aerith and Yuffie got the coveted space.  Cloud lay between Cid and Aerith and Tifa between Yuffie and Barret, and Vincent declined. Cait Sith, minus his moogle, happily settled in Yuffie’s arms.  Cid had refused passage to the moogle.

He wondered if Shera was doing anything with it.

Vincent, of course, was still watching the river.  “Get some rest, Vincent,” Tifa offered as she lay down.  “The river will still be there in the morning.”

“I will keep watch.  I don’t need to sleep.”

“Of course ya don’t,” Cid muttered.  He tugged his jacket around himself and settled into Cloud’s side.  “You need to eat more, kid, you’re all bones.”

“I’m doing my best,” Cloud said in a bored tone.  “No spooning!”

“Ya ain’t my type.”   Cid eyed Vincent, still watching the way behind them, and closed his eyes.  He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard a soft sound, and he looked over at Tifa.  ‘Kid’s got no clothes, she’s gotta be freezing.’ Right as he was hauling his jacket off a flash of red crossed his eyes.  

Vincent draped his cloak over Tifa.  It was tattered and old, but better than nothing, and she settled down into a deeper sleep, clutching the hem to her chin.  “Lemme guess, you don’t get cold?” Cid hissed as he draped his jacket over Yuffie.

“Not like you do.”  Vincent returned to his watch.

“Why do you keep looking that way?  We’re out, we’re home free! Tomorrow we’ll reach East Port and have a good, hot meal, get a bath, and sleep in warm beds, then it’s on to Corel.  Don’t worry!”

Vincent watched him briefly with eyes that reflected the wrong starlight, and returned to watching the way they came.  Cid then sat up, hauled his right boot off, and chucked it, hitting Vincent square in the back of the head.

Vincent stumbled forward and whirled, face confused and insulted.  Cid grinned, since it was the first emotion Vincent had shown since meeting him.  Vincent opened his mouth to talk, closed it, then straightened his clothes and hair.  “I’m keeping this.” He sat down, legs and arms crossed and the boot in his lap and continued to watch the river.

 

\---

 

The miles-long walk from the river to the small port town was boring and silent.  The grasslands were nice enough, and the few trees that they passed had some apples, so at least they had breakfast.  Nanaki and Yuffie were almost invisible, lost in the grass and shade, but Barret and Cloud didn’t seem to care or notice the grass much.  Tifa wished she brought her leggings, or any change of clothes. As much as she loved her tank tops and miniskirts, leggings would be extremely practical right now.  Cid grumbled and plowed ahead, swearing whenever he stepped on anything sharper that soft dirt.

“Ah, this grass is so itchy!” Aerith complained as she rubbed her arms.  “I think I’m allergic!”

“Quit petting it, then!” Cid sighed.

“I’ve just never seen anything like it!  Plants hardly grow in Midgar!” she insisted, and Tifa and Barret nodded in agreement.

“It’s just mountain grass, Aerith,” Tifa said gently.  “It’s just the dry season. It’ll be softer and prettier once it rains.”

“But it’s so pretty now.”  As Aerith rubbed her hands she sighed.  “But itchy.”

“Here.”  Cid suddenly snatched Aerith’ wrist and rubbed her hand against his chin   “Better?”

“Cid!” she laughed and playfully struggled to get away.  “Stop that!”

“Try mine.”  Barret bent down and took Aeri’s left wrist, rubbing he hand against his own chin.  “Better? Or EVEN better?” Aerith shrieked with laughter as Nanaki rubbed his whiskers against her ankles.  

She pulled back and dashed away.  “Save me, bodyguard!”

Cloud scratched his chin.  “I dunno, I haven’t shaved yet!”  Tifa knew full well that Cloud, his father and his grandfather had shown little skill and no interest in growing beards.

Aerith dove behind Vincent and into his cape, and Vincent looked down at her.  “Oh, it’s so hot in here! How do you stand it!” She emerged from the other side, cloak in hand, and felt it.  “How can you wear wool on such a warm day?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to melt!” she insisted and reached up to his shoulders.  “Here, at least undo your collar or something.” Vincent didn’t stop walking, making it very difficult for Aerith to undress him.  “Hey, hold still!” She flicked his cloak over his shoulders. “Is that Cid’s missing boot?”

Vincent kept walking, but the others didn’t.  Barret reached out and grabbed Vincent's cloak, stopping him.  Finally, Tifa sighed and spoke up. “Cid, why?” she asked, knowing it was most likely his fault and hoping for more explanation than ‘that man took my boot.’  He had been very unhelpful that morning, and had insisted on walking half barefoot.

Cid didn’t know himself.  “The man annoys me.” He lit his last cigarette and continued to stomp unevenly.

“Vincent?” Aerith asked and he looked over to her.  “Could you give Cid his boot back?”

“As I have explained, he threw it at me.  It’s mine, now.” Who had he explained it to?  The others missed that conversation. He had pulled his cowl up and his scarf down as far as he could to protect himself from the bright sunlight and was done talking, it seemed.  The boot was tied to his belt, and he had laced one of the laces through his holster so it didn’t bounce on his hip. He walked silently, and eventually, he pointed. “There, the city.  They have a fuel depot near the water.”

“You can see that far ahead?” Yuffie asked.  She was carting Cait Sith on her shoulders now.  “Cool!” Vincent made a soft humming noise of indifference.  “Does that mean you have good ears, too?” After a moment he bobbed his head in a nod.  

Cait Sith turned to him.  “So you can hear everything Cid’s been saying about you?”  Cid almost choked on his cigarette.

As usual, Vincent took a pause before speaking.  “Yes.” He kept walking and the others followed.

After another five minutes of Cid swearing and picking rocks out of his foot, Cloud gave a frustrated noise.  “Just take your other boot off!” Cloud snapped.

“No,” Cid snarled with a snort.

“Then apologize to Vincent!” Cloud insisted.

Cid snorted a little louder.  “No!” Everyone sighed as they walked into the edge of town.  It started with a junk pile here, a broken engine there, and finally, they were in East Port proper.

Without a word Vincent started walking off.  “And where are you going?” Tifa asked.

“I’m going to get clean.”  He paused, turned, and his pupils dilated and constricted as he scanned the quiet town before him.  “There, the inn.” Finally he walked down a path and left the others behind, and he didn’t realize Cid had followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to 234am for betaing for me! I hadn't realized how many little mistakes I had made!  
> Please, feel free to correct me. I would like to share a quality project with the world, and I don't mind being corrected! It's the only way to Learn and Move Forward!


	2. FFVII Sidequest - 02 - Shopping Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid interacts with Vincent, and it doesn't go too well.

Cid all but kicked the bathroom door down.  “OK, tall, dark and brooding, gimme my damn boot!”  Vincent whirled, gun drawn, and Cid backed off. “Whoa, whoa, it’s me!”  Vincent had moved faster than Cid thought physically possible, eyes firm and hair flicking in the breeze he created.

“Don’t,” Vincent snapped before composing himself.  “Don’t do that.” Cid eyed him up and down, finally noticing he was undressed.  “What?”

Cid pointed at him.  “You’re kinda naked.”  

“I said I wished to be clean.  That implies a lack of clothes.”  Vincent sighed through his nose and set the safety on his gun with a small key.  

The motion was not lost on Cid.  “You were really going to shoot me?”  Cid’s logical side said it was stupid to barge in on a man with a gun.  He emotional side, however, told him Vincent was being too jumpy.

“Perhaps.”  Vincent holstered the gun and clicked the strap shut.  He then finished pulling his hose off and setting it on the table with the rest of his clothes.  Everything was nicely folded and arranged. “Are you going to watch?” he asked in an agitated voice.  Cid shrugged and continued to look at the lines of Vincent’s body.

“So, um, Vinnie,” he started, and Vincent turned to glare at him as he turned the hot water on.  “You, um, what happened to you? The kids said there was a coffin and sleeping and are you a vampire or something?”

“I already explained.  And I despise repeating myself.”  Cid didn’t point out it hadn’t been explained to him, so he ground his teeth and moved on to the next topic as Vincent stepped into the shallow tub.

“You don’t seem to mind me at all.  Here. While you’re naked.” Cid had an appreciation for a body built like a fine-tuned machine.  As much as Vincent agitated him, he was easy to look at. The brunet's motions were deliberate yet fluid, like a cello solo.

“I’m used to being on display.”  Vincent turned and raised his perfect left arm in a practiced motion, showing off his range of motion and all of his arm.  He rotated his hand and flexed all of his fingers. “Here you cannot see where the conduits for a prosthetics test once sat.  And here,” he said as he gestured to his smooth neck and pulling his hair aside, “where the collar he made me wear bit hard. At least, there were scars, once.”  He started to scrub his arms, ignoring Cid. While he said nothing more Vincent wondered why he said as much as he did.

“Prosthetics?”  Vincent’s hands faltered briefly before he started to scrub his neck.  “I, um, I dunno what happened, but I’m sorry it happened to you. I’ll just take my boot and be going now.”  Cid picked up the boot and left. He hopped into it as he made he way to the others.

He found them at the market and looked around, assessing the layout and making mental notes of what was needed.  “Oh, Vincent gave you the boot!” Aerith smiled. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, nice.  You know, that guy’s creepy as hell!”

Aerith frowned at Cid.  “He’s been through so much, Cid, he’s got soldier’s shock, I’m certain of it.”

“What happened to him?  Sleeping? Coffins? Vampire?  Boot thief?”

Aerith was adorable, Cid thought, as she defended Vincent.  “He was hurt, and that’s enough reason to be kind to him. That doctor did something to him, Cid.”  Aerith put a hand on his arm and Cid melted a little. “And he slept for years in that coffin. I think he was genetically altered!”

Cid snorted and stomped over to the fuel depot.  “Yeah, I suppose, getting mutated and locked in a coffin for a couple years might just shock anyone.”  Aerith jogged to keep up. “He’s just so, so cold! I don’t think he can smile. He’s got not emotion.”

She slung her arm through his and he immediately bent his elbow, accommodating her height.  “Give him some time, Cid, I’m certain he’ll warm up soon!”

“Yeah, maybe.”  They entered the parts depot, a mess of tents, stalls and piles of all sorts of mechanical items.  Cid pointed to Aerith. “Hey, kid, find me a low pressure shaft. Shouldn’t be more than fifteen gil.”

“Low pressure staff, got it!” Aerith smiled and dashed off, happy to help.

“Shaft, not staff!” Cid yelled after her.  “Ah, they’ll know what she means. Yuffie, 9-pin mating plug, about four gil, go.  Squall?”

“Cloud.”  Cloud glared at him.  Was Cid ever serious?

“Cloud?  Five millimeter hose assembly.  Six-ish gil. I’m checking the fuel supplies.  Barret, with me.”

“And who put you in charge, you cranky cracker?” Barret demanded.

Cid stabbed his thumb into his own chest.  “Me, since I can fix the Bronco.” 

Barret swore, shrugged and followed.

 

Shopping didn’t take as long as Cid feared, and everyone managed to collect the correct parts.  “Ok, supplies are good, I can get the Bronco finished up tonight. Are we staying at the inn?”

“We should go to Wutai!” Yuffie offered, and everyone rolled their eyes.  It’s all she had been suggesting!

“Can we stay here tonight?  I’m tired!” Aerith pleaded. “I’m not used to all this running around!”

“I want a bath, too,” Tifa admitted.  “Vincent took one.”

“Vinnie didn’t help shop,” Cid snapped.  “He doesn’t get another bath.”

“Vincent hadn’t bathed in thirty years, let him have his moment!” Aerith said.  “Be kind to him, Cid.” 

Cid grumbled and Cloud checked their funds.  “We’ve got enough for a night, let’s just get some rest.”

 

\---

 

Morning was shining and bright when Cid pulled the curtains open.  Cloud and Barret groaned and rolled over, and Cid grinned down at them.  “Rise and shine, boys! We’ve got a lot of work to do and not a lot of time!”

“Why are you a damned morning person?” Barret groaned and rolled over.  He finally sat up, pulled on his prosthetic gun-arm, and rotated his shoulders.  “What are you doing?” he demanded as Cid crawled around Barret’s feet.

“Where is my boot?” Cid snapped as he lifted the edge of the blanket.  “Cloud, have you seen my right boot?”

Cloud opened the door to the common area and looked at the table.  “Um, Vincent has it.” Vincent had laced the boot through his holster again, and sat at the table, holding his cup in both hands as Aerith poured him tea.

“You freaking vampire, give it back!” Cid said as he stomped towards him.

Vincent put his cup on its coaster and sighed.  “No.” His voice was firm when he met Cid’s gaze.

“That is my boot!”  Cid accented each word with a stab of his finger in Vincent’s direction.

“You threw it at me.  It’s now mine.” He rotated his tea cup and started to drink, holding it with both hands again.  “I explained this yesterday.”

“Oh, NOW you want your goddamn tea?”  Vincent said nothing, and took a deliberate drink.  He did not make eye contact.

“Settle it, boys, we gotta get moving!” Barret grunted under his large pack of supplies.  “Vin, let him wear your boot, it ain't fit you none anyways.”

“His boot?” Cid snapped.

Vincent nodded and turned to make eye contact with Cid again.  “Very well. Cid, if you ask nicely you may borrow my boot.” Cid’s mouth dropped and he gave a frustrated noise that ended in several foul words.

“You started it,” Tifa pointed out.  “Come on, ask nice so we can get going!”

“Fine, fine!” Cid groaned.  “Vinnie, may I wear YOUR God damned boot?  That I paid for? And is part of a matched set?”

They all looked from Cid to Vincent.  “Do not call me Vinnie.”

“FINE, Vince,” Cid snapped, and Vincent twitched the eyebrow.

“Stop.”  Vincent’s voice was firm but controlled.

Cid gripped the side of his head so hard he crushed the empty pack of cigarettes shoved in his goggles.  “Vincent Valentine, may I wear the mother fucking boot or not!” Cid snapped before Tifa could say anything.

“I think that's as nice as it's going to get,” Cloud said with a shrug.  “He only swore once.”

“Please, Vincent,” Aerith said softly, hand on his shoulder.  Vincent looked at her hand then to her face, and she either didn't pick up the social cue to remove her hand or she didn't care.  “It will make the journey easier for everyone.”

“Very well.”  Vincent untied the boot and held it out.  “You may wear it for today.” 

Cid snatched it up and hauled it on, mumbling the entire time.  He then pulled his foot out, wondering what the obstruction was.

It was a fresh package of cigarettes.  Cid looked up to Vincent, but the brunet was already following the others out the door.  “What a weirdo,” Cid muttered as he shoved the cigarettes in his goggles and followed the others.

 

\---

 

“Ok, it looks like everything is up to snuff.  I’m turning the engine on, so if your damned fingers get lopped off, it’s your own damn fault!”  Aerith pulled her hands away from the engine and held them behind her back, and Yuffie followed suit.

They laughed at each other.  “Do you really think he’d do it?” Yuffie asked suddenly, and Aerith sobered.

“Maybe?”

Cid shook his head and turned the key, and the Tiny Bronco snapped to life.  “You have three minutes to get on this plane!” he snapped and everyone rushed to their places.  “You coming, Mr. Vampire?”

“I am not a vampire,” Vincent said softly.

“I ahm not a vhamipire,” Cid hissed back, imitating Vincent’s soft accent.  Vincent’s face didn’t change emotion, but they could see his features harden.

“Shit, Vin, look at it this way.”  Barret slung his arm around Vincent’s shoulder.  Vincent glared at his hand after Barret gave him a shake.  “Sooner or later goat man there’s gonna screw up big time, and you’re gonna get to watch.  Besides, he’s got your boot.” Barret clapped Vincent’s shoulder and climbed up onto the Tiny Bronco, and Vincent followed.


	3. FFVII Sidequest - 03 - North Corel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little bit about Vincent, and Cid tries to make friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol and drunkenness.

“OK, so you’re good in a fight.”  Cid wiped the gore from his spearhead and examined the shaft, rotating it as he spoke.  “You did a good job taking out those creeps.”

While walking from the shore to North Corel they were ambushed by several beachplugs.  Vincent had kept several of the creatures at bay while the others dispatched of the main group, then provided cover when Yuffie attracted more by falling to a nest.

“I did my job.”  Vincent examined his gun and clicked the safety before holstering it.  

“Learn to take a damn compliment!” Cid grumbled and looked over to Aerith.  She was examining a crack forming in the weight of her staff. “I can fix that for you, kid.”

“You’re handy to have around, too!” Aerith chirped and held out her staff.

Cid examined the staff and nodded.  “It’s an easy fix. I just need a forge and some tools.  We should find some in town. Almost anything can be made in a weight, so pick something pretty.”  He handed it back and everyone started preparing for the long walk to North Corel.

“I don’t think pretty exists here,” Yuffie said sadly.  “Also, I think Vincent’s melting,” she said as she pointed to him.  “We should get him out of the sun. He's’ wearing about eighteen pounds of wool!”  Vincent exhaled through his nose, a motion Cid was certain had a name. It wasn’t a huff, and not quite a snort, but it was more than a sigh.

Why did the thought of Vincent melting make Cid laugh so much?  “C’mon, Mr. Vhamipire, into the shade with you!” Cid laughed. They could hardly see Vincent’s crimson eyes under his scarf, but they could hear his soft hum of displeasure.

“I think it would be more ‘whampar,’” Nanaki noted, “seeing as he’s Galian.”

“Shit, really, you from Gali?” Barret asked.  “Should have known, you’re so proper. Don’t hear a lot about Gali these days.”

“They didn’t have anything ShinRa wanted, so they just kinda shut it off,” Yuffie said with a shrug.  “Not a lot of resources, no mako.”

“What has happened to Gali?” Vincent asked quietly, and Yuffie jogged over to him.

“In the mid nineties, about fifteen years ago, ShinRa attacked Gali.  They tried to get to the Mako reserves there, but they decided it wasn’t worth the resources.  Gali locked itself off. Hardly anyone goes in or out.”

“I see.”  They continued to walk and Cid felt a pang of guilt over teasing Vincent.  The man didn’t even know his home country had almost been wiped off the map!

Vincent was silent for a few minutes, so it startled Cid when he offered unsolicited information.  “Mako never powered Arcata. It’s natural gas.”

“Arcata?” he asked, assuming it was a city.  “That where you from?”

Vincent nodded shallowly and his walking slowed.  

“You OK, Vinnie?”

Vincent’s voice was quieter than usual.  “I’m fine.” Vincent paused, and the others passed him.  

Cid watched for a few moments, but when Vincent made no motion to move, he walked over to him and stood in front of him. “Get on.”

“I’m fine.”  Vincent’s voice was a bit more quiet this time.

“Ya damn fool!” Cid snapped and stepped backwards, bumping into the brunet and gripping his arms.  He hauled Vincent onto his back and hitched up Vincent’s legs up around his waist and started walking.  

Vincent was fairly light and easy to carry.

“Ya sleep for twenty years, ya don’t eat your damn dinner, ya don’t drink your damned tea, and then ya walk around in the god forsaken heat with a God damned wool cape on, ya moron!  Ya ain’t fine!” His Gold Palm accent was a bit more pronounced than usual, but only Yuffie noticed.

“Unhand me.”  Vincent struggled weakly, but the heat and sun of the beach had sapped his strength.  “Stubborn.”

“Yer’re stubborn,” Cid snapped and hitched Vincent up a few inches.  Vincent’s hands hung limply over Cid’s shoulders, and Cid shook his head.  Cid grumbled as they continued to walk, Vincent clinging to his back like a broken doll.

After a mile Cid heard a noise, and he looked up.  "Hey, you guys hear something?" he asked cautiously, and adjusted Vincent on his back.  There was a break in the noise, and he was surprised to realize that the weird noise was Vincent sleeping, breathing through his nose and cowl.  The battle combined with the heat and the long walk seemed to take its toll on him, and Cid considered last night.

Vincent hadn’t slept well.  He hadn’t really wanted to, but Aerith insisted, so he tried.  Cid had to shake him awake from a nightmare, and he wondered just how bad his soldier’s shock was.  “Hey, we got something for him to drink?” he called out after he realized Vincent had awakened.

Aerith came jogging over, a bottle in her hand.  “Here, I got some water for him!” She poured a little bit into Vincent's mouth and watched him swallow.  “Corel’s not far from here.” They only had to walk another half hour to reach what remained of the town. Cid had heard of a disaster, but didn’t realize just how bad it was.

“Let’s get him to the shade so he can sit down.”  Cid carried Vincent to what passed as the inn and lowered him into a chair.  “Yeah, our idiot vampire here needs to rest.” While Cid paid for a room Aerith helped Vincent remove his cloak and wiped some sweat from his face.  His clothes were fine for the cold weather of Nibelheim, but were a death sentence in the heat of the desert day.

Vincent drank quietly as Cid supervised.  “Why do you watch me?” Vincent asked as he put the bottle down.

“Because you’re gonna get yourself killed, ya asshole.  Drink.”

Aerith took the bottle and dabbed some water on her handkerchief.  “He’ll make himself sick if he drinks too much, Cid.” Vincent lifted a hand to fend off Aerith’s dabbing hand, but she insisted on washing his face.  She expertly dodged his hand and he finally sighed through his nose and let her finish.

“He needs to not dehydrate!” Cid insisted and snatched the bottle back.  When Aerith reached for it Cid gave it a squeeze, and a good portion erupted from the bottle, soaking Vincent’s shirt.  Vincent sighed and took the bottle from Cid, but Cid jerked it back, dumping what was left in Vincent’s lap. “Well, you do like your baths.”

Cloud stuck his head in the door.  “Cid, you got time for repairs, tram’s not running until the morning.  Why’s Vincent wet?”

“Man likes his baths,” Cid said and jabbed his thumb in Vincent’s direction.

Vincent snorted in disgust.  “Cid mihi magra odbis es,” he hissed and stood, only to wobble on his feet.

“Safe to say he’s calling you a goat,” Cloud said with a shrug.  Cloud had learned one word from Vincent, and that was odbis, goat.  He tucked himself under Vincent’s armpit and led him to a room. “C’mon, let’s get you laying down for a bit.”  Vincent hissed something, and Cloud nodded at him. “That’s right, Cid’s an old goat.”

“Why am I hanging out with you yahoos,” Cid snorted in their direction.  “C’mon, missy, let’s get your staff repaired.” Aerith followed Cid as he went to ask directions to a tool shop.

“Cid?” Aerith asked as they walked and he looked down at her.  “Please be kind to him.” Cid sighed and grumbled a little. Aerith had slung her arm through his and Cid adjusted his pace without thinking again.  “He’s hurting, can’t you see?”

“No, he’s got no personality and no emotion.  And no ass. Totally flat. Flatter than Cloud’s.”  When Cid plucked a cigarette from his goggles Aerith took it between her fingers and held it from him.  “The guy’s damn rude! Hey, you, tool shop?” he shouted at a random man. The man pointed and Cid waved at him.  “This way.”

He made sure to keep Aerith balanced as they walked down a steep hill.  “Something horrible happened to him.” Cid got to thinking of the line, ‘used to being on display.’  “Please, Cid. Just, you know, talk to him. I think, deep down, he’s really nice.”

“Hey, girlie, nice tits!” someone hollered, and Aerith blushed.  Cid bent down and scooped up a small stone, then flung it with precision.  The man yelped as it grazed his ear, and Cid made a rude gesture.

“Thank you, Cid.”  Her smile seemed to lift the weight of the world.

“OK, kid, I’ll take the guy out drinking or something, get to know him.”

“Thank you, Cid!”  Aerith pulled Cid down by his shoulder and kissed his cheek, and Cid blushed a little.

“Where’s my kiss, baby?” another man shouted, and Aerith blushed again.

Cid whirled, grabbed the cat-caller by the waist and dipped him.  He shoved his tongue down the cat-caller’s throat, moaned a little, and let go.  The punk dropped, gagged, and Cid spat. “Was it good for you?”

“It was like licking an ashtray!” he whined and Cid stomped.

“Yer welcome.  Take off!” The punks scattered once he reached for his spear with a practiced motion, and he spat again.  “Damn punks. C’mon, missy, let’s fix yer staff.” He held his arm out for her and they found the tool shop.

 

\---

 

“There’s nothing to do!” Yuffie whined as she flopped on the bed.  The mattress was hard and she didn’t like it.

“Let’s get something to drink,” Cid offered.  “This town’s full of blue collars, there’s gotta be a bar.”  He stood and hauled Vincent by his arm. “C’mon, Mr. Vampar, let’s get something to drink, spend some quality time!”

“Why am I invited?” Vincent asked, and Cid was certain his voice was suspicious. He had rested in the shade and had some water, and now that the day had cooled off he was perking up, if anything he did could be called perky.

Cid tugged and Vincent followed.  “Because I don’t know anything about you, and you can learn a lot from a man by how he drinks.  You don’t need that cape of yours.”

Yuffie hopped up quickly.  “I want a plum wine drop!” She didn’t want to say it, but she was desperate for a taste of home.

“You’ll get a soda.”  Cid was quite adamant.  They found a broken building that served drinks and Cid dragged Vincent in.  “What’ll you have, Vinnie?”

“I would like a Magic Tab,” Vincent said quietly.  “And to be called by my name.” The night was cooling and his strength was returned, so his voice was heard over the din of patrons and repaired pinball machines.

Cid laughed at him.  "Damn, they haven't made Magic Tab in almost... thirty...  shit, Vin, have a look at the drinks menu." Cid jabbed his thumb at the menu painted on the wall.

“My name is not Vin.”  

Cid ignored Vincent's huff and examined the dinner menu on the wall, and finally ordered some kebabs.  “Here, a Flameclaw!” Cid grinned as he punched his finger on the painted menu. “Hey, barkeep, two Flameclaws and a diet soda for the kid or something, I dunno, a milk?  Do kids still drink milk? Hey, punk, you want a milk?” he asked Yuffie in a deliberately annoying tone.

Of course she fell for his bait.  “I want a plum wine drop! You goat!”

Cid snorted at her.  “Pick a new animal, I’ve been a goat all day!”

“No booze for kids, here, have a Tonberry Punch.”  The barman put their drinks on the table and pushed them towards them once Cid shoved some gil his way.  “You want’em lit?”

“Light us up!” Cid laughed and the barman dropped a spark in the Flameclaws.  Cid cackled as the liquid flared to life and died off, leaving a glowing drink.  Cid gestured to the grill and dropped some more gil, and the barman nodded. “C’mon, Vinnie, don’t be rude.  Drink up!”

Vincent sniffed his drink and eyed Cid, then took a sip.  It was hot, and a mix of sweet and sharp. Cid lifted his glass and Yuffie hers.  Vincent followed suit.

“To us, a couple of damn yahoos with impossible dreams.” He cracked their cups together and took a chug, while Yuffie took a sip and Vincent drained his large mug.  “Whoa, Vin, you like us that much?”

Vincent coughed a little and glared at him.  “The glasses are too large to toast properly!  It’s rude to leave an unfinished drink in your toast!”  Cid gestured to the barman who put another drink in front of Vincent, lit it, and dropped some kebabs in front of them.

“Ya don’t finish the drink, ya damn fool!  You salute and move on!”

Vincent exhaled through his nose and examined his fresh drink.  The swirling patterns of light were enticing and gave him something to examine rather than Cid.  

Cid examined Vincent for a moment.  “Here, eat something.” The barman dropped a small steak in front of Cid and he chopped off a piece and held it out to the brunet.

Vincent eyed the questionable meal.  “I’d rather not.”

“More for us,” Cid said and bit into the steak.  He and Yuffie continued to eat and drink, and when he was certain no one was looking, he let Yuffie have a drink of his Flameclaw.  She sputtered and coughed and Cid laughed, slapping his knee.

“That is awful!  How is Vincent on his fourth?”  Each time Vincent looked like he was about to stand up Cid had made a toast to one thing or another, just to see Vincent drain his glass.  

Cid laughed brightly when Vincent hiccuped, his entire body jumping in surprise. “You drunk?” he asked and tugged on Vincent’s hair, spotting his red cheeks.  “Hm, wasn’t sure you could get drunk!” Cid mused as Vincent slapped his hand away.

“I’m not drunk,” Vincent insisted, but his accent was more pronounced.  

“Hai’m noht druhnk,” Cid teased and rubbed his own reddening face.  “Hey, what’s with the glove, anyways?” he asked and tapped Vincent’s gauntlet.  “Doesn’t it hurt your hand? A giant metal glove would hurt my hand.”

“This is not my hand,” Vincent hissed as his fingers flexed.  “I do not like to be reminded of it.”

“It looks pretty attached to me,” Cid said and poked him sharply with two fingers in the elbow.  Vincent picked up Cid’s steak knife and aimed it over his hand, and Cid all but flung himself over Vincent’s arm.  “What the hell, man!” The patrons around them are suddenly on edge.

“It’s not my arm, not my original one, at least,” Vincent said as he struggled in Cid’s grasp.  His face was red and his eyes unfocused.

Yuffie wrestled the knife from Vincent’s hand and the bar around them relaxed; they understood drunken stupidity.  

“It rotted under the strap, and Hojo,” Vincent hissed, touching and area above his wrist.  “It’s not my hand.”

Cid suddenly remembered her comment about the prosthetic hook up and his stomach bottomed out.  “This sounds like a job for another Flameclaw. Two, please!”

 

\---

 

“I’m not drunk,” Vincent insisted though no one asked.  

The bar had finally closed and Cid and Yuffie were leading Vincent back to the hotel.  His eyes were glassy and his balance questionable, but five Flameclaws and no food in one’s belly could have that effect.  

Cid finally pulled a mumbling Vincent onto his back, as there was no way he could navigate the slopes and hills to the hotel.

“You’re drunk,” Cid said and kicked aside a rock.  “Hey, kid, adjust his shirt, would you? Something’s digging into my shoulder.”

Yuffie nodded and adjusted one of Vincent’s buckles as the brunet slurred his words.  

“I don’t get drunk.”

“You’re drunk,” Cid confirmed again.  “You should have eaten your god damned steak.  Or some bread or something, shit man, don’t you ever go drinking?  You can’t drink on an empty stomach!” Cid felt bad, now, but no one made Vincent chug each drink after a toast.  

“I can’t get drunk.”

“Then let’s see you walk.”  Cid lowered Vincent from his back and turned around.  “C’mon, Vinnie.”

“Don’t call me Vinnie.”  Vincent took two steps and started to stagger.  “Unhand me,” he snapped, though no one was touching him.  “I don’t need your support.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I,” Vincent tried to say with pride, “am not drunk.”  

Yuffie was faster than Cid and grabbed Vincent’s hair to keep him from puking on it.  She at least had him aimed into what passed for the gutter.

“I am not drunk,” Vincent panted.

“You’re drunk!” Cid and Yuffie exclaimed as one.  Vincent responded by sinking to his knees before Cid grabbed him and rolled him back onto his back.  “At least you’re not heavy.” Yuffie adjusted the buckle again and they kept walking. “How’d you meet him, anyways?”

Vincent’s mind blurred for a few moments, and could barely make out their conversation, now.  “And he just looks down at Cait Sith, and I’m like, and this is Cait Sith, and he just goes,” Yuffie was laughing, “he just says, ‘no.’  End of conversation.”

Vincent could feel Cid’s laugh with each nerve of his body when Yuffie impersonated him, and it was a good thing he had already vomited or the vibration would have emptied his stomach.  He resisted passing out, but failed.

 

\---

 

“You up, Mr. Whampam?” Cid asked into the night.  Vincent was amazed at how many ways Cid could mangle a single word.

“I have a name,” Vincent snapped from the darkness.

“I have a hangover.  You?” Cid raised an eyebrow and could see the glow of Vincent’s eyes turn away.  “Finally got your goat for a change, eh?” Any emotion was better than nothing, he told himself.

“I am Vincent Valentine.”  

Once Cid’s eyes had adjusted to the dim he could make out Vincent sitting at the window, one long leg propped up and and holding his elbow.  His crimson eyes shimmered in the faint light, glowing more than reflecting.

“Hey, your claw comes off!  Neat!” Cid could see the faint reflection of light on the claw, which sat in front of Vincent.

Vincent exhaled through his nose.  “You’ve already seen me naked.”

“Oh, yeah, good point.”  Cid sat and up crossed his legs.  So far Cloud hadn’t been disturbed, but Cid wasn’t certain about Nanaki.  Barret was snoring despite laying on his side. “You get a bath in while I was fixing stuff up?”

“Why are you so interested in my being naked?” Vincent snapped.

“Take it outside, please,” Cloud muttered, and Cid laughed.

“Shut.  Up,” Barret grumbled and Cid lay back down.  Cid watched Vincent’s eyes glowing in the darkness for a while, drained his water bottle, then went to sleep.

 

\---

 

Cid stretched as his stood up, cracking his back.  “The old man’s awake!” Yuffie shouted from the hall.

“Little punk!” he shot back.  He hauled his jacket on and reached for his boots, and somehow he was surprised the right boot was missing.  “Vincent!” He stomped out of the room and looked around. “Where are you?”

“Looking for Vincent’s boot?” Yuffie asked with a grin.  “He’s outside.”

“The idiot better be in the shade!” Cid muttered as he stomped outside.  “OK, creep man, boot.” It was, of course, laced to Vincent’s holster. He stood in the shade drinking the coffee Aerith had made that morning.  Cid stood there, glaring, arms crossed, as Vincent quietly drank.

“Here, Cid, breakfast.”  Aerith handed him a sandwich and a mug of coffee.  

Cid ate, never breaking eye contact with Vincent, constantly glaring at the stoic man.  

Finally Aerith walked up to Vincent and smiled at him. “Vincent, may Cid borrow your boot?  He only has the one, you see. He might not get into the Gold Saucer without it.”

Vincent nodded once.  “If he asks nicely.”

Cid exploded into a verbal rampage of swears and hand gestures.

“There are children present, Mr. Man!” Aerith scolded.  “Now we’ve got a lot to do so be polite!”

“VINCENTVALENTINEMAYIWEARTHEDAMNBOOT!” Cid snarled, and Vincent nodded.  He unlaced it from his belt and held it out, and Cid snatched it. “God damned, glowing eyed, fly-by-night vampire!”

Vincent didn’t know quite what to say.  “I can’t fly.”

“Then what sort of vampire are you?” Cid snapped as he laced his boot.  He was a little sad once he realized there were no cigarettes in it this time.

“I’m not a vampire.”  Vincent gave a heavier breath than normal through his nose.  “Why do you insist on calling me that?”

“You sleep in a coffin, weirdo!” Cid said as he jabbed Vincent’s shoulder.

“I don’t understand?”  Vincent’s confusion startled Cid, and the brunet turned and followed the others to the tram.

“Wait, wait, where do vampires in Gali sleep?”

“They change into bats and sleep in the eaves of their victim’s home.”  Vincent stepped into the tram and backed into a corner, his natural habitat.

Cid shook his hands in front of him.  “No, they sleep in coffins, and at night attack their blood relatives.”

Vincent examined Cid for a moment, head slightly tilted in thought.  “Interesting interpretation. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tifa laughed at them, and Cid narrowed his eyes.  Was Vincent finally starting to act like a human? Was that a joke?  

Vincent’s eyes narrowed a little. “You keep watching me.”

“Maybe I like staring at you because you’re pretty,” Cid said before his inner filter kicked in and the tram fell silent.  He could just make out Vincent’s mildly flustered look before his stoney expression returned. “What? I can appreciate a guy’s beauty, just like a woman’s!  Look at the long hair, the distinguished nose, damn, you haven’t seen him naked!”

“Why, again, have you seen him naked?” Nanaki asked, and Cid shrugged.

“I wanted my boot and he was naked.  And pretty.” Tifa covered Yuffie’s ears and Yuffie objected.  “He’s just easy on the eyes, nice to look at.”

“This is not a conversation I was expecting to be having today,” Aerith admitted.  “I don’t think Vincent was thinking it would happen today, either.” They could just barely make out the noise that was Vincent's displeasure as the tram rolled on.


	4. FFVII Sidequest - 04 - The Gold Saucer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid tries to be a good person, we learn some more about Vincent.  
> Cid, Vincent and Yuffie forget about the main quest for a little bit.  
> PTSD

“Well, this place sure is colorful!” Cid grinned.  Flashing lights, neon signs, and chipper music were everywhere.  He spotted Vincent adjusting his cowl and wondered if the eclectic scenery would give him a headache.  It wasn’t easy having sensitive ears and eyes, Cid supposed. Cloud was negotiating with the gatekeeper and finally came to an agreement.  “I’ve always wanted to come here!”

“If we want to do anything, though, we’re gonna need Gold Saucer Points,” Yuffie mused, and tugged on Vincent’s sleeve.  “C’mon, Vin, let’s go! Let’s look for the Keystone!” She said ‘look for the Keystone’ in such a way Vincent knew she did not mean Keystone.  She gripped his arm and several people looked over at the commotion.

Cloud looked up and waved his hand to get their attention.  “Everyone, meet up at the Ghost Hotel for dinner!” Everyone broke up into their own groups, so Cid followed Yuffie and Vincent. 

“This way!” Yuffie said as she hopped into the tube.  Vincent peered down it, skeptical, and Cid stood by him.  

“An efficient way to get around, huh?” he asked, and Vincent eyed him sideways.  “Don’t you like small, enclosed places?” The people from before were still staring at them, and Cid decided it was best to keep moving.  He didn’t like suits, lately. Or ever, really. Nothing good came from a man in a suit.

“Not really,” Vincent said quietly, and Cid examined him, trying to figure him out.  “You’re watching me again.”

“Get in the tube, Vinnie.”  Cid gave him a push when he objected to being called Vinnie. and Vincent hopped into the tube, Cid right behind him.  They emerged at Wonder Square and Yuffie hauled Vincent from the exit before Cid could crash into him.

“Careful, Vince!  Come on, it’s this way!”  She hauled his arm and Cid followed as Yuffie dragged Vincent to the games room.  He seemed dazzled by the lights and sounds and tubes, and was an easy victim for an energetic sixteen year old.

“Here, play this, Vincent!” she ordered cheerfully as she plugged gil into an arcade machine labeled ‘Lucky Shot!’.  She pulled the plastic light gun controller out and held it out to him. Vincent eyed the gun, then flicked his eyes to Yuffie.  “Just play, OK? Have fun!”

“Guns are not toys.”  Yuffie took his right wrist, lifted it, and shoved the gun in his hand.  Vincent exhaled through his nose and quickly examined the gun, running his fingers along the barrel, where the safety should be, and the magazine.  The screen counted down to zero and he lifted the barrel. “It is like a training simulation?” he asked as he shot the flying plates. His voice was both quiet and slightly confused.

“It’s a game, it’s fun, and you’re good, so we’ll be swimming in points!” she cheered, and Vincent continued to shoot.  Something about the entire situation upset him. “What’s wrong, Vinnie?”

“To make a game of violence,” he muttered and continued to shoot, and Cid decided not to tell him about the boxing game a few machines over.  The GP counter continued to rise, and he continued his kill streak of balloons and fruit. “What do we need the points for?”

“Prizes!” Yuffie grinned.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for, you know, the Keystone or something?” Cid asked, and Yuffie poked him in the chest.

“Shouldn’t you be, like, trying to win me points, or something?  I want that giant stuffed cat!” she said as she pointed to the prize table.

“Does the game end if I fail?” Vincent asked.  He had already won almost a hundred Gold Points.

“Yes!  Keep going!” she cheered, and clapped her hands gleefully, watching the score multiplier continue to rise.

 

\---

 

She had named the giant plush cat Mr. Sleepy Eyes and hugged him cheerfully the entire way to the hotel.  “Thank you, Vincent!” she said brightly as she cuddled Mr. Sleepy Eyes. “I love cats!” He gave a soft humming nod and kept walking.

“Hey, question,” Cid asked and could see Vincent’s shoulders stiffen a little.  “When you get mad you do this thing with your nose. There a name for that?” 

Vincent paused and turned to face him.  

“You know,” Cid said and huffed through his nose.

“You mean nassuo?” Vincent answered unsurely, a gentle pause between the double Ss.  “You want to know what it’s called to breathe through the nose?”

“No, if you’re writing it down, how to you write it down?” Cid asked.  “He huffed, he’s huffing, he will huff, you know,” he said and exhaled through his nose again.  He wasn’t sure why, but he just wanted to hear Vincent talk.

“He huffed, I suppose.”  Vincent wasn’t sure why they were having this conversation.

Cid shook his head.  “No, no, not in Midland, in Gali.”

“Gali isn’t the language,” Yuffie commented quickly in an annoyed and protective tone.  “Gali is his country. His language is AEspira.” Non-Midlanders needed to stick together.

“Thank you, Yuffie.”  Vincent seemed honestly touched for a moment.  “In AEspira, you would say nassus.” He pointed to himself.  “Mih nassis, mih nassus, mih nasso.” He pointed to Cid. “Voi nassis, voi nassus, voi nasso.”

“So, mih is ‘me’, and voi is ‘you’.  So. Nassis, nassus, nasso.” 

Vincent did not want to compliment his pronunciation, but he was quite accurate; he did not clip or slur the space between the S sounds.  He didn’t like to admit it, but Cid was a smart man, just a highly annoying one. Vincent nodded at him. 

“So, um, let’s see, the is, us, o changes the tense of the word.  So we would have, tickle-us, tickle-is, tickle-o?”

Vincent stopped and made eye contact with Cid.  “I will shoot you if you attempt it.”

“I’m just tryin’ to conjugate, here!” he insisted and looked around.  Several people quit staring and moved on. “Unless you want to conjugate at the hotel?” he asked in a deeper voice.

“You are a perverted man.”  Vincent said and he and Yuffie started walking again.

“Hey, I’m just, I’m trying, OK?” Cid insisted.

“Trying to what,” Vincent asked, but it was more a statement than a question.

Cid held his hands up.  “Trying to, you know. Look, Vin, I’m sorry.”  

Vincent stopped and turned around.  

“I’m sorry I made fun of your accent.  I’m sorry I hit you with my boot. I just, I dunno.  I’m sorry, OK?” Cid crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling, then back to Vincent.  “I’m sorry.”

Vincent didn’t seem to know what to say, or he was just taciturn as usual.  “It is appreciated.” He started walking again, then paused, and Cid caught up.  They made their way to the hotel and entered Ghost Square.

Cid almost choked on his cigarette when he saw the decor.  “This is the only hotel here, we are not making fun of you,” Cid said quickly.

“It was this or the brothel on the lower level,” Yuffied added.

“Why do you know where the brothel is?” Cid demanded a little louder than he meant to, partially in relief so he wouldn’t have to mention the Ghost Hotel.

“This will do,” Vincent said and walked up the path.

 

\---

 

Cid slept through the group meeting, of course.  Vincent shook him awake and Cid looked up, snorting and confused.  “They’ve assigned us a room together.” Cloud raised his hand to correct Vincent and say there were no assigned rooms, and Tifa forced Cloud’s hand down and shook her head.

“Hn, an’ some bread.  What? Huh, oh, yeah, rooms.  Let’s go.” Cid yawned and stretched, popping his back again, and followed Vincent up the stairs.  “Hey, you wanna watch a movie or something? What type of movies do you watch?”

“I don’t watch movies,” Vincent said as he pulled out the room key.  The lock screamed when he twisted they key and Vincent nassis. They walked inside and Vincent took his boots off.

“Then you’ve never seen The Kalm Incident, have you?” Cid asked eagerly.  “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Cid opened the night stand and pulled out the television remote.  “Look at all these horror movies, Vinnie!”

“Don’t call me Vinnie,” he snapped as he hung his cloak in the closet.  He wasn’t sure why he decided to share a room with Cid, but the decision had been made.  “The point of a nickname is to shorten the name. Not change part of it.”

“Hey, Vince, look at all the horror movies!” Cid repeated, and Vincent sighed at him.  “They got Midland Ghoul, The Nibleheim Massacre, Last Monday, oh, here, the Kalm Incident!  Here we go! It’s great!” Cid sat down on the bed, legs crossed, and patted the mattress next to him, cheesy grin on his face.  “C’mon, sit, watch! I’m gonna watch it anyways, you may as well watch with me!”

“Very well.”  Vincent sat, crossing one leg over the other, as Cid hit PLAY.  Vincent undid his scarf and started brushing out his hair as the ShinRa Film Division logo played to creepy theremin music.  The movie was about a monster that lived deep under they city, luring people there with tricks and promises, and Cid talked through a lot of it.

“OK, this part here, see the mirror?  OK, watch the mirror, see, this shot is really cool!”  The heroine had recently had her hair looped off and was standing in front of a mirror, and she was shoving her hair around her ears.  A figure rose from the mirror which rippled like water and hauled her in, screaming and kicking. “See, she’s laying on the floor, the mirror’s a pool!  That’s why she had her hair cut, since she’s laying on a board over the pool!” Cid shook Vincent’s arm as the scene played on.

The actress fell out into the mirror world, wet and screaming.  “A decent effect,” Vincent murmured. He, too, was now sitting cross legged on the bed.  The monster was interesting, and the characters were nice enough, he supposed.

Cid was rapidly explaining the next camera trick.  “They had to make an entirely new type of camera for this shot, too!  Look at how seamless it is!”

 Vincent had to admit Cid’s enthusiasm was charming.  Vincent might not have cared about the movie if Cid hadn’t been having such a good time.  The camera rotated and spun in a circle, showing a small fish bowl style room. 

“Watch this, watch it!” Cid grinned as he hauled on Vincent’s elbow.  The camera pulled away from the room through the mirror and out another window.  “They put a little frame that looks like the mirror on the camera, and another one that looks like the window frame behind that and moved them forward to make it look like the camera was flying through the window!  Cool shit, huh?”

Cid turned his head and noticed Vincent was watching him.  “What are you staring at me for, idiot? Watch the damned movie!”  

Vincent turned back to the TV and continued the movie.

 

\---

 

“Hey, Vince?” Cid asked in the dark.  He heard a soft hum and sat up. “Do you think we can do it?”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Vincent muttered.

“Shut up.”  Cid snorted at him.  “Can we save the planet, you think?”  

Vincent rolled over and sat up in his own bed.  He didn’t seem to fit in a lot of spaces and had automatically lay down at an angle so his feet were supported.  

“Hey, is everyone in Gali as tall as you?”

“Your mind wanders.”  Vincent’s crimson eyes shimmered in the dark.  “Get to sleep.”

“Are Galians tall?” Cid asked again, unsure he wanted to ask his first question again.

“No, not all Galians.  We Valentines come from tall people is all.  Are all Midlanders so loud?” 

Cid snorted at him, but admitted internally it was a fair question.

Vincent made a soft, quizzical noise.  “Question for question, it’s only polite.”

“I suppose your language is pretty quiet.  It’s just our way, I suppose. Heh, now I sound like you!” he laughed, rubbing his nose.  “What’s Gali like?”

He could see Vincent shifting, turning body towards him.  “Quiet, reserved. You laugh so loud, so quick. You take up so much space.  Arcata is a quiet place. It’s actually not far from here, in the mountains to the west.”

“Maybe we could stop and take a visit?” Cid asked.  “I mean, I plan on stopping in at Gold Palm when we’re there, Yuffie’s homesick for Wutai, she never shuts up about it, I mean, even Barret got to see his old home.  Sad as that was.” He could hear Vincent hum in thought. “Hey, Vincent?” 

Vincent looked over, eyes a bit brighter.  Did they reflect the pale light of the fake lightning in the window, or maybe they changed with emotion?  Cid was certain they were brighter.

“I’m glad we met.”  Cid could see Vincent nodding at him, eyes flickering in the dim.  “AEspira leaves a lot unspoken, doesn’t it?”

“It does, yes.”  Vincent lay back down, and Cid followed suit.  

He watched Vincent’s shoulders moving with his breathing for a while.

 

\---

 

“Aih, satis, satis, plac.”  Cid rubbed his eyes and looked over.  Vincent was clutching the blanket to his chest with one hand, and his other was in the air above him.  “Satis!” His eyes were only open a crack and his voice was quiet and desperate.

“Hey, hey, you’re OK, Vin.”  Cid hopped out of bed and gave Vincent a shake.  “I don’t know where you think you are, but you’re safe here.”  Cid had never wondered about soldier’s shock before, but he had heard of people having nightmares and stress after traumatic events.  He didn’t know exactly what had happened to Vincent, but it was bad, and he wasn’t dealing with it well at the moment.

He kept clutching at his chest and reaching for something, and Cid took his hand.  “You’re OK, Vince, you’re OK.” 

Vincent opened his eyes and took hungry breaths like a drowning man.  It was as if he were breathing for the first time. He clutched Cid’s shirt and Cid gently pet his face.

“Wake up, that’s right.”  Cid adjusted his posture so his knee would stop protesting and continued to move his thumb over Vincent’s cheek.  “You’re OK, you’re OK.”

“He’s killed me,” Vincent hissed.  “He’s killed me.”

“You’re not dead,” Cid insisted.  “You’re breathing. Your heart’s beating.”  Cid pressed his hand against Vincent’s chest, and he could feel Vincent’s heart pounding.  “You’re a little cold, yeah, but that’s just body heat. But you’re alive.”

Vincent’s voice was quiet and desperate.  “I was dead. I was dead.” 

Cid pulled Vincent close, trying to calm him.  He didn’t know what to do for soldier’s shock.

“He killed me.  I could feel my body dying all around me!”  He was neither awake or asleep, and Cid felt a pang of pity for him.  “I was rotting! I could feel it!”

Cid pulled Vincent’s head close and kissed his temple like his mother used to when he was scared of the storms.  “You’re OK, Vince, you’re alive, you’re OK.” 

Vincent lay in Cid’s arms, his own arms folded tightly across across his chest, breathing as Cid rocked him.  Vincent was honestly one of the most distressed people Cid had ever seen. “I died.”

Cid stood Vincent up and stabilized him.  “C’mon, up, we’re taking a walk.” 

Vincent didn’t struggle as Cid hauled Vincent’s boots on him.  

“There we go.”  He led Vincent outside and they left he hotel, and quietly they reached to the elevators.  Cid took a few logical guesses and finally they reached a roof, and he wriggled the door open and left his right boot in the jam to keep it open.

The sky unfolded around them and Cid stared up at it in awe.  “Sometimes when I can’t sleep I get outside, look up to the sky.”  He pointed to a bright star, one of the few visible through the firecrackers and lights of the Saucer.  “You can’t see all the constellations with all the light pollution, though. But there? That’s Gaea’s Belt.  You line up those three stars and follow them to The Great Eagle. The Eagle grips the Southern Star in its left foot, that’s how you know which way is south.”  

Vincent nodded at him, watching the sky.  He seemed to be calming down, and he face didn’t look so slack any more.

Cid decided to continue.  “You know what most people think of constellations isn’t a constellation.  They’re asterisms. Gaea’s Belt is an asterism, part of a constellation of Great Mother Gaea.  And while most people just know the Southern Triangle, it’s actually an asterism of The Great Eagle constellation.”  Learning something new always made Cid feel better, so maybe that would help Vincent?

“In Gali,” Vincent said softly, “The Great Eagle is the Apple Tree.  The root is the Southern Star.” He pointed, and Cid looked at Vincent’s hand, his pale golden skin tone barely visible in the faded neon lights.  “Here, like this.” 

Cid copied Vincent’s hand, sweeping up Gaea’s Belt to the tree and down to the root.  

Vincent nodded at him.  “If you’re ever lost in the Corel mountains, follow the Great River to the tree and climb down to the roots.  The roots will lead you to the Southern Pass, and there, the road.”

“Hey, when you cast magic, that’s kinda the motion you do!” Cid grinned.

“You watch me far too often.  That’s how you let Yuffie fall into the beachplug nest.”  

Cid laughed then shuddered softly in the night breeze.  

“Are you cold?” Vincent asked quietly.  He was used to the cold, but he knew Cid was not.

The pilot grinned at Vincent.  “Naw, I got starlight.” 

They settled a little closer to each other and watched the stars.

 

\---

 

Cid wasn’t sure when Vincent fell asleep, but his head was resting on Cid’s shoulder.  Cid gently picked him up and carried him back to the room, where he took Vincent’s boots off and lay him on the bed.  While covering Vincent up, Cid resisted kissing his forehead goodnight, unsure why he kissed Vincent’s temple in the first place.  Vincent rolled over to his side with a sigh, and Cid made sure the blanket was pulled over Vincent’s shoulders. 

Cid pulled his boots off and sloppily dropped them by the foot of his bed, then picked up the right boot and moved it next to Vincent’s boots by the door.


	5. FFVII Sidequest - 05 - Ambushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio get separated from the main party and meet up with Vincent's past.

“Where is everyone?” Cid asked as he knocked on the other doors.  “Punk! Get yer ass outta bed!” He heard a door open and shut and Vincent appeared from the room, Cid’s jacket in hand.  “Where the sam hill did everyone go? Even the girls are gone.”

“Perhaps they have found breakfast.”  Vincent handed Cid his jacket and right boot, and Cid pulled them on.  

“Can you, like, sense them or something?” Cid asked.

Vincent blinked at Cid.  

Cid shrugged and looked at Vincent.  “I don’t know what the limits of your senses is.”

“I don’t hear them.  I slept too deep last night to hear anything.”  Vincent tugged his cowl up and turned away. “I slept well last night.”

“You’re welcome,” Cid said with a grin and followed down the steps.

“Guys, quit with the hanky panky and move it, the tram’s good to go!” Barret called up to them.

Vincent was blushing a deep red.  “Miho net essem,” he started to explain and Barret swung his hand at them in a beckoning motion.

“Whatever, lover boys, move it!  We gotta catch the tram!” Barret snapped and ran off.

As Cid passed by, he slapped Vincent’s bottom.  “Yeah, lover boy, move it!” he laughed and Vincent’s face reddened.  

He followed Cid down the steps and outside.  Could he push him off the tram? It’s not like Cid could fly...

 

\---

 

“There, the tram!” Cid said as they ran up.  He and Vincent skidded to a halt as the tram took off, and Cloud was shouting to them over the clattering of the engines.  “We’ll have to catch the next one, I guess.” He bit into his breakfast sandwich and chewed loudly, then looked over and held it out.  “Want a bite?”

The sandwiches were why they were late.  “No,” Vincent said sullenly. 

Cid had insisted on grabbing breakfast from the Event Square.  He had bought several, and held the bag out, shaking it slightly.  “C’mon, eat something.” Cid took a panini from the bag and waved it at Vincent.  

Yuffie waved at them but they didn’t see her.

“No.”  

Cid rooted through the bag and pulled out another one, and Vincent refused without even looking at it.  

“Aw, come on, Vince, what’s the matter?  The next tram will be here shortly,” Cid started to say.

Vincent’s anger startled him.  “What did you think were were doing?  Touching me like that?” he snarled angrily.  “Mihi depius!” 

Cid stared blankly at him.  Vincent’s AEspira was suddenly sharp, unusual for the flat language. 

“I was humiliated!”  Several people in suits looked over, and Cid glared back at them.  He didn’t like people in suits.

“I, damn, Vince, I didn’t,” Cid started.

“My name is Vincent!” he growled, and Cid shoved the sandwich back in the bag. 

He glared at Vincent and spat his words out.  “You know what? You’re way too stiff!”

“What gave you the right?” Vincent snarled back.

“Guys?”  They ignored Yuffie, caught up in their argument.

“Depius?” Cid asked and Vincent raised his hands and shook his head.  “You’re still upset? That was half an hour ago!”

It took Vincent a moment to speak.  “What gave it away?”

“You said depius, not depiis.”  

Why was Cid’s accent so good?  It made Vincent even more upset that Cid understood.  He remembered the tenses, he said the double letters right.  Cid being courteous about his language made it hard to be mad at him, and that made Vincent angrier.

“Cid, what did you do?” Yuffie asked, and they finally looked at her.  

They then looked at the tram that rattled into the station.

“Let’s just catch up with the others.”  Vincent stomped onto the tram and took his usual place in the corner, and Cid, Yuffie and the others on the platform followed.  

The passengers waited for a few minutes, Vincent and Cid glaring in each other’s general direction, and finally the tram started up.  It rolled slowly several meters then paused.

“Is it busted again?” Yuffie asked, and they suddenly rotated, then started rolling again.  “What was that?”

Cid looked out the window.  “Did we change tracks? Are we on the right track?”  The tram picked up speed and they started racing towards the west.  “We’ll have to ride back, then catch the right one. Vincent.” Cid glared at the corner.

“As if I control the trams,” Vincent hissed at him.  “You wanted sandwiches.”

“Guys?  Why are you fighting?” Yuffie asked, and they turned away from each other.  

Everyone kept an uncomfortable silence as the tram continued.  

Cid opened the window and stuck his head out.  “How far does it go?”

“It looks like it goes into the mountains.”  Cid pulled his head back in. “Didn’t you say Gali was to the west, Vincent?”  

Vincent said nothing, but he tilted his head and hid his face in his cowl.  

Cid scowled back at him.  “Be that way.”

“If he’s being sullen, I might have something that can help.”  A woman on the tram stood up and reached into her bag. She pulled out a large dark collar and Vincent backed into the wall.  “We’ll just be reclaiming our asset, now.”

“What are you yapping about?” Cid demanded and put himself between Vincent and the woman.  

Something was wrong with Vincent.  He had gone stiff and Cid could hear him breathing.  The only other times he heard Vincent breathe was when he exhaled through his nose.

The woman gestured to a large man with a jar-shaped head a a body like a dualhorn.  “Potts, deal with him.” 

Potts lunged towards Cid and Yuffie reacted, spinning her body and striking Potts in the face with her heel.  

“Tower, the asset!” the woman shrieked.  “Don’t let it get away!” She pointed at another man and he stepped forward.

Vincent backhanded Tower and pulled out his gun, and shot out the door.  He gripped Cid and Yuffie by their waists and they toppled out the gap.

They screamed and clung to each other, and Cid buried his head in Vincent’s hair.  He smelled of cinnamon and apples, and Cid wondered if this would be his last memory, of them fighting and falling to their deaths and wondering why the hell Vincent Valentine smelled so good.

“We stopped?” Yuffie asked quietly, and Cid opened his eyes.  

They were falling, but slowly, and the tram sped away.

“I thought you said you couldn’t fly!” Cid snapped angrily in relief.  “We are flying!”

“This is not flying.”  Vincent closed his eyes in concentration.  “I can slow our descent, that is all.” He sighed through his nose and made a motion, and they moved closer to the cliffs.  “You’re both too heavy.”

“Got it!” Yuffie said and suddenly pushed away.  “See on you on the grooooooound!” she cheered as she broke free of Vincent’s ability, leaping away from them and towards the cliff wall.  She waved as she fell, grinning as she pulled herself into a backflip. 

Vincent and Cid looked on in surprise as she hit the stones and skid for a few feet, then catching herself and starting to run along the almost vertical cliff wall.  As she moved forward she slowly lost speed and height, aiming herself carefully for the path fifty feet below her. With her arms behind her she leapt once again, hitting the ground and tumbling several times before skidding to a halt.

“Show off, the both of you,” Cid muttered nervously as they approached the ground.  They paused before Vincent’s toes touched, and a brief circle of energy pushed out dust, grass and a few stray leaves as they landed.

Cid remained clinging to Vincent’s side, and the brunet slowly crumbled under Cid’s weight.  

“Off, please.”  Vincent sounded muffled and breathless.

Cid stood up and helped Vincent stand.  “How long could you do that?” Cid asked, and Vincent smoothed his hair and clothes.  “That’s amazing!”

“The longer I’m awake the more I can do,” Vincent explained quietly.  His stomach made a hollow sound and he sighed. Maybe he did need to eat more.

“And the more human you get.  C’mon, up, let’s get our ninja and get going.”

“I’m here!” she cheered and landed next to them.  “Where to?”

“Well, I dunno,” Cid admitted.  “Tiny Bronco?

“How,” Vincent murmured from Cid’s back.  He was getting used to being carried and he wasn’t sure he liked it.  “We can’t cross the desert and we can’t use the tram.”

“He’s right,” Yuffie said with a shrug.  “We have no gear, no supplies, no nothing.”

Cid held up the bag.  “We got paninis! I got my spear, you got your gun, and punk ninja here has, I dunno, a bad case of sass mouth.  What can we do?”

“There is one option,” Vincent said after a pause.  He pointed to a hill near one of the tram supports. “That way, please.”

 

\---

 

Vincent didn’t want to admit it, but the panini was good.  He hadn’t had good spinach in a while, but he didn’t know what the other green vegetable was and he didn’t want to ask.  Cid had put him down as he ate, and they kept walking.

“Where are we going?” Yuffie asked.  “And slow down! Your legs are so long!  It’s not fair!” 

Vincent paused and let her catch up.  Cid had noticed Vincent sometimes shortened his steps or stooped when talking to people.  He had slept in his bed at an angle, too. The world was not made for people as tall as Vincent, and Cid wagered Barret had it worse.

“They reach my belt, honestly!  Do you really need heels?” she demanded and pointed at vincent’s boots.  They did, indeed, have two inch heels.

“There is a station up ahead,” Vincent said as he handed Cid the wrapper to the sandwich.  “We will be safe there. We can pass into the Corel mountains by Southern Pass and emerge not far from the beach.”

“But the Corel mountains are dangerous,” Yuffie lamented.  “They’re hard to climb!”

“We will pass them by moving through Arcata.”

“Your hometown,” Cid said softly.  “It might be different than you remember.”

“You don’t understand Gali.  Gali does not move.” 

What did that even mean?  Cities didn’t move around.  Unless they were on a giant turtle or something.  Maybe they floated? They kept walking and Cid looked over to him.  

“Vincent?” Cid asked quietly, and Vincent said nothing.  “I’m sorry I slapped your ass.” Apologizing had gone pretty far before, so Cid tried it again.

“Cid!” Yuffie scolded.

“I thought we were friends!” Cid insisted, and Vincent glanced at him.

“We are friends.”  It was a flat statement and Cid jogged to catch up with Vincent’s long legs.

“Galians don’t do a lot of physical contact, Cid.”  Yuffie’s voice was even and quiet. “Midlanders, especially coast people like Cid here, often use physical humor with people they like, Vincent.  Vincent’s upset because you crossed a line, touching a personal area, and Cid is upset because he’s treating you like a friend and you’re not reacting like a friend.”

“When did you get smart, punk?” Cid asked.  

Vincent exhaled through his nose softly, contemplating.  Others’ customs were so strange to him that he hadn’t stopped to consider he was strange to them.

“I listen, OK?  I take care to examine my surroundings, like the elite force I am!”  

There was a sudden noise and she gave a startled yelp as something wrapped itself around her and slammed her into the wall.  Vincent whirled, readying his gun, and Cid looked over.

“Punk?” Cid asked as something slammed into his back.

“Subject 13!” the woman from the tram grinned.  


	6. FFVII Sidequest - 06 - Galian Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ambush continues and Vincent fights back. Violence in this chapter.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you in person, 13!” she said as she held out the collar.  

Someone gripped Cid from behind, and Cid froze once he realized a gun was shoved against his neck.  

The woman grinned at them, all teeth and gums.  “Please be civilized and put the control collar on.”

“Who the bitch are you?” Cid snarled as the man behind him wrestled him to the ground.  Cid was very aware of the gun against his pulse.

“Veri Naomi, member of the ShinRa Weapons Division, of course,” she said through a thin smile.  “We’re here for Subject 13!”

“He’s not a subject,” Cid growled.  

Yuffie pondered for a moment.  “Wait, thirteen?”

Naomi held the device out.  “Put the collar on or I’ll have Finn shoot the man.”

“You’re gonna shoot me anyways,” Cid snarled.  “We all know it.”

The man holding Cid adjusted his grip and there was a sudden crack, and Vincent was standing, gun ready.  Finn was now laying behind them, dead from a shot to his left eye. 

Yuffie gave a shriek of surprise.  “Who got shot? What happened?” Yuffie was struggling in the net, wishing desperately she had paid attention in escape class.

There was another sound and Vincent barely dodged another net shot from an air cannon.  Vincent could hear Yuffie yelling at the net landed near her and he tried to focus. The next item fired was not another net but a handful of bean bags in rapid succession.  He blocked one with his gauntlet, but it exploded in a puff of smoke and flashing light. A few bean bags slammed into his head and torso, some more solid and the others filled with dust and light.  Vincent stumbled, dazzled and nauseated, trying to focus through irritated and watering eyes.

Cid made a rush for Yuffie, but whoever was manning the air cannon was prepared.  Cid grunted as a large rubbed ball smacked his head with a solid thunk, and as he went down, Potts gripped him by his right arm and shoulder.  The massive man turned and swung Cid around, and Cid’s boots hit Vincent in the jaw.

Vincent stumbled, stars exploding behind his eyes, and wobbled as another barrage of beanbags hit him.

Potts tossed Cid aside, then hauled Vincent up by his hair.  He grinned as Vincent gripped his wrist, trying to steady himself, and Potts slammed a fist into his gut.

Vincent wretched and tried to catch his breath, but Potts gave him no time.

The massive man lifted Vincent higher and slapped the collar around Vincent's neck.  He pulled it tight and Vincent hauled on it, trying to breathe. Potts dropped him, then tossed the leash to Naomi and Vincent's service revolver off the cliff.

“Thank you, Potts, I’d be lost without you.”  She twisted the handle and Vincent screamed as the electricity flowed through him.  “Subject 13, stand down.” Vincent started to pry at the collar, and Naomi squeezed the handle, sending another electrical shock down the cord.  “Stand down! Assume guest position.” 

When Cid struggled to get up, his head spinning, Potts took him by the neck of his jacket.  He slammed Cid’s head into the ground when he tried to object, and stood on Cid’s neck. 

Namoi gave another squeeze, and Vincent’s voice gave out.  “Guest position, 13!” 

Vincent slowly lowered his hands, his face an emotionless mask.  It wasn’t his usual stone-faced expression, but one of defeat. He was terrified by how quickly he returned to the old patterns.

Cid struggled under Pott’s boot, angry they would steal Vincent’s stoicism from him.  

Naomi ignored Cid to focus on her prize.  “Good. Show me your hands.” 

Vincent lifted and rotated his arms, and Cid recognised the motion from the bath in East Port.  It was only a few nights ago but felt like years. Vincent’s eyes were blank and Cid ground his teeth hard enough to hurt.

“Don’t worry, you old goat, we’ll just take this beast off your hands,” Potts said as adjusted his heel on Cid’s neck and dragged him to Yuffie.  “Let’s drop these two down the cliff.”

“OK, 13, let’s get you back to the lab.  Walk.” 

Vincent resisted, lips twitching.  His breathing was strained and his fingers rippled.

“I said move, pretty boy!”  She gave a vicious yank and Vincent stumbled forward.  “Back to the lab with you!”

“He’s not an experiment, he’s our friend!” Yuffie insisted, and Potts backhanded her.  

Vincent staggered and Naomi yanked again.  

“Stop it!” yuffie sobbed at them.  “Leave him alone!”

“Shut her up,” Naomi sighed.  “Her voice irritates me. Who lets the wu-wu people out, anyways?”  Naomi hauled again and Cid twisted free. 

He elbowed Potts in the ribs and rolled right, aiming for his spear, and Potts stomped on Cid’s back.

A strange noise left Vincent’s throat, and he lurched forward.  Naomi swore as she activated the collar, but Vincent started to change.  Cid had seen similar transformations in movies, but they omitted the sounds.  He could hear Vincent’s body shifting, clothes tearing, joints cracking, and a rolling growl as his face lengthened.  Vincent cried out and Cid felt Vincent’s pain in his own spine.

“Shoot him, shoot him!” Naomi shrieked as Vincent’s hands grew longer.  

Potts and Tower scrambled for the weapons, but Vincent was already on his feet.  Naomi turned and ran as Vincent pulled the collar from his neck and yanked on the cord, whipping it about before tossing it off the path.  Cid could make out the barbs that tore Vincent’s skin, and he ground his teeth. Vincent turned his attention to Potts, and Cid scrambled out of the way as Vincent lashed out.  He raked open Naomi’s face then backhanded her, sending her flying into the cliff wall. 

Potts picked up the net that was holding Yuffie and, despite her squirming, managed to toss her in Vincent’s path.  Vincent leapt over her, landing in front of Potts, and he reached out, gripping Pott’s by the jaw and hoisting high.

Potts could only let out a brief shriek as Vincent squeezed his jaw, shattering it, then slamming him against the cliff wall.

Vincent turned away from him and looked down.  Yuffie was trying to pull the net from her, and Vincent reached down and gripped it, tearing it with ease.  He then took two steps towards Cid and stumbled. With each step he changed and reverted, sighing as he regained his human form.  Cid caught him as he fell, and Yuffie ran up with Vincent’s cloak. “Get dressed, ya nudist,” Cid scolded quietly as he and Yuffie got the fading man on to Cid’s back.

 

\---

 

Vincent’s breathing changed before he woke up, and he lifted his arms.  “No, no more!” he hissed and felt something grip his left hand. “Plac!”

“Please wake up!”  Yuffie’s voice was quiet and concerned.  “Vince? Are you OK this time? Cid, he’s up!”

Vincent slowed his breathing and swallowed.  His vision cleared and he could make out Yuffie in the dim light of the fading day, and slowly he managed to sit up.  Yuffie let go of his hand and, rather ineffectively, tried to help him. He was shaking and almost fell back to Cid’s jacket, which he had been using as a pillow.  Vincent held his hand out, trying to get free, and struggled to control his breathing. He looked down at his left hand and scowled.

“Here, got you some clothes.”  Cid dropped a bundle near Vincent.  “Those ShinRa assholes had some gear on the tram.  Ninja princess here climbed up and got it out. We got some water, a few paninis left, we should make it to Gali tomorrow if we hustle.”  Cid held out Vincent’s gauntlet. “Tried to fix this for you, but ain’t got no tools.”

“I would like,” Vincent said quietly, “to get clean.”

“There’s a creek that way, c’mon.  It’s almost night, you won’t need your cowl.”  Cid helped him stand and he and Yuffie looked the other way to let him get dressed.  The walk was short and misty, and Vincent’s head refused to clear. 

Yuffie followed them to the water’s edge and started to haul her clothes off.  Cid looked over and he tried to pull her sweater back down. “What are you doing, missy?”

“Trying to get a bath!” she insisted and pushed Cid back.

“Girl baths are down there!  By the rushes!” he insisted.

Yuffie scowled at him.  “What is it with juwai making bathing weird?”  She pulled her bra off and Cid blushed deeply.

“I’m sorry, what did you call me, squirt?” Cid snapped at her, only to turn away as she stepped out of her boy-cut underwear.  

Vincent ignored them and examined his torn boot after hauling it off.

“Juwai.  A non-Wutai.  It’s like you’ve never taken a bath before!  You make it all sexual and weird! And it’s not!”  She gestured to Vincent, who was quietly undressing.  “See, Vince gets it! Now get clean, you stink, goat!”

“At least I’m not some snot-nose punk ninja!”

“At least I’m a ninja!”  

Vincent ignored their bickering and splashed water over his back, splashing some on Yuffie’s feet.  

She let out a high-pitched noise and stepped back.  “Oh, that’s cold!”

“It’s wet and clean,” Vincent said dryly as he pulled his hair aside.  

The scars on his neck from the collar were already fading, and Cid wished the bruise on his own shoulder would fade just as fast, but his arm would be stiff in the morning.  They had used a Cure spell, and it would heal the wound but not the pain.

“And freezing!”  Yuffie started muttering in her native language as she filled the lid she found in the supplies.  “Here, hold still, your hair’s a mess.” 

Vincent give a resigned sigh and let Yuffie comb out and wash his hair, using the lid to scoop water over Vincent’s head, and Cid started scrubbing his arms.  

“Do you want me to trim it?” she asked.  “I’ve only got a dagger, though.”

“It’s fine.”  They finished washing up and Vincent pulled on the clothes Yuffie had found in the tram.  “The tram is stopped?”

“It was, but as I was in there, it started moving.  I could only get a few things. How did they know your pants size?” Yuffie asked as she watched Vincent getting dressed.

“Are you going to watch me as well?”

“Well, you’re very pretty.  It’s why Cid watches you.” 

Vincent finished buttoning the jumpsuit on and hauled he cloak over it.  “Come. It’s not far.” He started walking again. “It’s not far.”


	7. FFVII Sidequest - 07 - Into The Twilit City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid, Yuffie and Vincent make it to Vincent's hometown to rest.

After about half an hour of walking they finally reached a gate in the wall.  Vincent shoved it open while Yuffie and Cid winced at the screaming metal, and then they followed Vincent through.  Cid examined the design for a few moments, noting the apple tree and crows worked out of red iron on black bars. “Hey, the apple tree!” he said with a wave and Vincent nodded.  Was he back to being mad? “Tell me about the apple tree.”

“Shut the gate, please.”  Vincent didn’t stop walking as he worked his way up the trail.  “It is a tree that grows apples.”

“You don’t name a constellation or make a gate out of just an apple tree, Vince.”  

Vincent didn’t twitch an ear or challenge the name, so maybe he wasn’t so mad about the ass slap any more.

“Are we going to talk about what happened on the back there place?” Yuffie asked nervously as she jogged to keep up.  She quickly caught her stilted grammar and coughed. “You know, back there? You changed.”

“The apple tree is the Moon White Apple Tree.”  

Cid didn’t know if Vincent was avoiding the conversation or had finally decided to explain the tree.  

Vincent continued.  “We’ll come across the apple trees, soon.  According to records there was a storm and the Great Mirror was damaged.”

“The Great Mirror?” Yuffie interrupted as they came to another gate.  

Vincent nodded as he held it open for them.  “Arcata is deep in the mountains and only gets sunlight half the year.  Long ago the Valentine family collected materials and erected the Great Mirror on the hill to reflect sunlight to the city.”  He made sure to shut the gate behind them. “A strange sickness overtook the city, and the Great Mirror was broken, casting light only onto seven places.  In these places the Moon White Apple Trees grew. The apples were the only food for weeks, and those who drank tea from the bark and apples did not get the sickness.”

“What was the sickness?”

“Measles, from the sound of it.”  Vincent pointed to a shimmering spot on the horizon, barely the size of Yuffie’s fingernail.  “There’s the Great Mirror. It’s about seven hundred meters across.”

“Oh, it’s so far away, how will we get there?” Yuffie asked as Vincent passed her on the trail.  “I’m really hungry. And it’s getting cold!”

“We’re out of sandwiches,” Cid grumbled, and followed Vincent.  

“Soon.”  Vincent led them to another gate, but this time he gripped a cord and pulled, and a bell sounded.  “Let me speak to them.”

“To who?” Yuffie asked as Vincent tilted his head to a stone tower carved into the rock.  Two men dressed in black clothes with red mantles and gold trim emerged.

“Whoa, extra Vincents!” Yuffie hissed as the guards came to the gate.

“Mih mehius Vincent Valentine.”  

The gatemen were visibly shaken as Vincent pulled his cowl down and showed his entire face.

“Miv Arcata intrabitus es.  Shoal.” The men spoke to each other in soft, nervous voices, and finally nodded.  

“Iintrabitus plac.”  They opened the gate and Vincent gestured for Cid and Yuffie to enter, then followed.  

“Here, this will take us to the city.”  Vincent looked at one of them men and they opened a door on what appeared to be another tram car, but this one on a rail instead of a rope.  

Cid, Yuffie and Vincent entered and sat down, and the door shut.  The tram made a few clanking noises, then they were moving, rising smoothly and quietly after the gears started working.  “There’s a river, Aven Es, with a wheel to power the tram. Arcata is run by such devices.”

“Won’t things have changed,” Cid asked again, “in thirty years?”  He wasn’t sure Vincent was in his right mind yet. The air started to get colder and flurries of snow could be seen outside the open windows.

Vincent took his cloak off and draped it over Yuffie  She eagerly wrapped it around her.

Vincent shook his head.  “Gali is the nation that does not move, and Arcata the Eternal Twilit City.”  

They rode for several minutes as Yuffie and Cid watched the city race towards them.  They could see a surprising amount of trees, flowering shrubs, and different types of grasses as they rose over the ridge of the mountain, and then several bell towers.  Cid marveled at the Great Mirror, long and narrow, and could see the sunbeam in the dust through the snow and pollen.

Arcata was spread through two valleys and a few peaks, with tall square buildings and several canals.  He could see several large white trees in the street, almost golden in the reflected mirror light. “Hey, those are the moon apples?”  

Vincent nodded at him, eyes taking in the sights.  

Cid watched Vincent’s face for a moment.  “Is it good to be home?” he asked quietly, but Vincent didn’t answer.

Finally the tram ran under some thin, flexible rods that activated bells as they rode under them, and the tram slowed to a stop.  Two men guided it into they bay and opened the door, faces nervous as they spotted Vincent. 

“Vois mehius Valentine Mar?” one asked and Vincent nodded.  “Voi sequi plac. Ib maers noc plac.”

“What’s plac?” Yuffie asked as Vincent nodded and started to follow them.

“It makes a sentence a polite request.”  

“Like the word please?” Cid offered and Vincent pondered.

“It is more something you say to a superior.”  

They left the tram station and entered the city proper, filled with people wandering and living their lives.  Most of the people there were dressed similarly, in heavy wool clothes in dark colors to ward the cold. Almost all of them wore cloaks and mantles in a variety of vivid earth tones, or dark cloaks with splashes of bright embroidery and scarves.  Yellow ochre, vermilion red, and hunter green seemed to be the most popular colors, though Cid did spot a woman with a bright blue ribbon in her hair. Children seemed to wear paler colors, and while they saw a woman with a pink stole draped over her deep brown mantle, it was not the bright pink Aerith wore, but a more earthly rose.  Many people wore silver or bronze buckles, zippers, and decorations.

The city was lit by both golden gaslights and the copper Great Mirror, which made the white stucco and pale wood glow with a soft light.  The buildings were all similar and boxy in shape, with the first floor being stone and the second floor floor a wooden construct jutting out over the edge.  The first floor was simple and sturdy, but the second and above were covered in gracefully carved wood, small windows of tinted glass and banners in bright colors.

Cid had to admit he was thinking of a gloomy, dark cave of a town, but Arcata was charmingly earth toned and had a pleasant breeze, despite it being cold.  “It’s beautiful here, Vincent.” 

Vincent nodded quietly.

“I see why it’s the Twilight City.”  Cid listened to a quiet conversation as they passed a group of people, and he noted their gentle smiles and soft voices.

“The buildings are so weird!” Yuffie chirped as she pointed.  

Cid spotted people looking at them and gently pushed her arm down.  Much like Vincent, they were quiet and reserved in their motions. It seemed sound carried very well, so it was only natural to remain quieter.  

yuffie pointed to another building, her arm lower this time.  “Why are the second floors so much larger?”

“Wood should not be built on the ground,” Vincent explained quietly.  

“Hey, if plac is please, what’s satis?” Cid asked, thinking back to Vincent’s nightmare.  

Vincent paused for a moment, thinking of the same nightmare, then kept walking, and the guard with them watched silently.

“It means I have had enough.  I cannot endure.” vincent picked up the pace a little, lifting his head higher.

The guard led them to a building with two large wings, and in the front of it was the largest of the Moon White Apple Trees.  They climbed the round steps on either side of the tree and the guard spoke quietly to the doorman, and they bowed slightly as Vincent entered.

“They keep saying Valentine Mar.  Is that like mister? Do you put titles after the name like we do?” Yuffie asked.

“Mar means something akin to lord, I suppose.  The title is after my name, so it is not military, religious, or government.  As I said, my family put the Great Mirror in place. The Snows also created the natural gas process that lights and warms Arcata.”

“The Snows?” Cid asked as they walked down a hall with portraits. 

Vincent paused a few moments later and led them a few feet back down the hall to a portrait of a fair woman with a grey streak in her deep brown hair.  The guard did not hurry them along.

“This is Emiline Snow.  My great grandmother.” 

She was wearing a grey dress with red and yellow trim and holding a book in one hand and what appeared to be a gas fixture in the other.

Yuffie stepped forward to examine the painting.  “She’s beautiful, Vince! You have her nose and eyes!  But yours are red, hers aren’t.” 

Vincent nodded and kept walking, and they were led to a very large and important looking door.  “Please stay here. Do not make a scene. Please be orderly.”

“I get it, I get it!” Cid said, both hands raised.  “No slap ass.” 

Vincent blinked at him went into the office.

« Lord Valentine! » Maer Gérard said as he stood up, hands shaking.  « Are you here on your father, Vincent Valentine’s, behalf? »

« I  _ am  _ Vincent Valentine, son of Grimoire Valentine and Sophia Snow. »  

The maer swallowed and stepped forward.  

« I have come for the key to the estate.  I trust the agreement is still in effect? »

Maer Gérard nodded and walked to a safe.  « Yes, the staff and building are maintained, the cellar filled. »  He opened the safe and pulled out a small box. « How are you like this? »

« What else would you expect from the son of Grimoire Valentine. » Vincent continued to stare and Maer Gérard opened the box and pulled out one key from several, each from a different estate held in his trust.  

« Will you be needing clothes, then?  Traveling supplies? » 

Vincent was not insulted the maer  wanted them out of there. He had no desire to remain longer than needed.  « Yes. We were mugged along the way. We will stay the night, collect supplies, then be on our way. » 

The maer nodded and Vincent accepted the key with a nod.

« I’ll have the tram station activated in the morning. »  The tram to the Gold Saucer was only activated when needed.  « I’ll also send a clothier. »

« It is appreciated. »  They nodded to each other and the maer put the keys back in the safe.  « I shall return the key when we leave. Thank you for keeping the estate, and for keeping it tomorrow. »

Vincent let himself from the office and looked down the hall.  Cid and Yuffie were pointing the various objects, repeating the names as a guard told them.  

“Did you lock the inua?” Yuffie asked and pointed to the door.  “Isn’t the tapae a beautiful color? It’s orta!” She pointed to the wooden floor.  “My shirt is var!”

Vincent looked down at her, a bit of affection in his chest.  Didn’t Wutai fall in the war? It would make sense that someone who lost her culture would be kind about someone else’s.  “They’re having a tailor sent to the estate, as well as supplies. We’ll stay the night, then catch the tram to the station, then the station to the Gold Saucer.  Hopefully we can catch up with the others.”

“How are we paying for this?” Cid asked.  “Gali is a closed nation, I’m assuming they don’t take gil.”  

Vincent paused and looked at children watching them.  He looked over to Cid, and Cid pulled some gil from his pocket.  

He held the long, narrow coins out and the kids looked at him warily.  “Hey, it’s OK, you can have one. Three coins, three kids. Hey, Vince, how do I tell them it’s OK?”

“Mihi domuit senti.”  « Accept my gift. » 

AEspira did not naturally use words to indicate politeness or civility, since it was assumed that the civility was included in the request.  Cid repeated it, adding plac to the end, and the kids took the coins and nodded. Cid nodded back and the kids laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked and the kids laughed again.

“You’re using the word plac.  You nod too deep. Just tilt your head.”  Vincent made a soft gesture with his hands and the children took two steps back and ran off, clutching their new treasures.

“So, big nod, big respect?”  Cid mused. He suddenly remembered all the times Vincent nodded at him, thinking of big nods and little nods.  “Wait a minute.”

“Like a bow, but with your head,” Yuffie explained.  “Where are we staying?” 

Vincent pointed to one of the large towers and they started walking.  

As they passed children, Cid kept handing out coins, repeating the phrase and bowing his head too deep.  

Yuffie laughed at him and started following suit.  “We’re gonna run out of gil!”

“Speaking of gil,” Cid said as he handed out his last coin, “how are we paying?  You get an IOU or a loan or something?”

“No.”  Vincent pulled the key out and twisted it in the lock.  “It’s my house.” He opened the door and gestured them inside, locked the door behind them. 


	8. FFVII Sidequest - 08 - A Gracious Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are clothed, fed, and ready for bed.

Vincent placed the key in a box by the door and twisted a knob, turning on the gas lights.  There were several vertical tubes that lit up, along with the tubes the rested where the ceiling touched the wall.  A large oven was built into the middle of the room, with a chimney that extended vertically through the center of the house.  To the left was a wardrobe he hung his damaged cloak in, and a rack for his boots. 

Vincent turned a dial on the stove, lighting a small fire within, and he put two split logs on either side.  “The bath is on the first floor, the hot water will be ready soon.”

“First floor?” Cid asked.

“This is the ground floor.  We live on the first and above.”  There was a large pantry on the left wall, and some steps leading to the first floor.  Vincent opened it and led them inside, gesturing to the boot rack to the right. The wood house was a warm color, the golden lights accenting the soft browns and gentle red of the wood.  Embroidery, small paintings, and diagrams decorated the wall in patterns and shape. 

“The first floor has the bath, and the dining area.”  He opened the door and gestured to a hall. “Bath on the left, sitting and dining on the right.”  The chimney did, indeed, go through the entire house.

Cid realized the overhang was the hallway that wrapped around the outside of the rooms, and the high, tiny windows were tinted and let in light in a variety of colors.  There was another door to the sitting area as they walked around the hall to the steps. 

“This floor has my parent’s studies.  Please respect them. The third,” Vincent started to say, but Cid interrupted.

“Fourth.”

Vincent ignored him.  “Is the bedrooms. Yuffie, you may use my mother’s.  Cid, my father’s.” Vincent gestured to two different doors facing each other in the narrow hall.  One had a wreath of dried flowers hanging from the center, and the other door bore a carving of a book.

“What about you?” Cid asked.

Vincent gestured to the third door, decorated with a carving of a split apple.  “My room. Excuse me. Supper and supplies will be sent over soon, we should wait downstairs.”  He led them back downstairs to the first (second, Cid would insist) floor to the sitting and dining area.

As he turned the lights on Yuffie realized the room was an ‘L’ shape.  She turned the corner and gave off a soft yelp as she spotted two people.  

Vincent looked over and turned on a lamp.  “It’s just a portrait.” 

A large painting hung on the wall of the sitting area, a man who looked like a darker, more firmly built Vincent, a woman with his paler skin and features, and a small child.  The man stood, wearing a deep grey suit and a red scarf, the woman sat in an ivory chair wearing a pale green dress with a round shawl, and the child of about five standing between them, wearing a light grey suit and pale red scarf or shawl draped around his shoulders.

“Oi, Vince, you were adorable!” Cid laughed.  “Just look’it’cha! Red eyes like yer daddy, you got yer mama’s nose and mouth!”  Cid nudged Vincent with his elbow. “You come from good looking people, Vince.”

Yuffie looked into Vincent’s face.  “What’s wrong?”

Vincent was quiet for a few moments.  “Mother died when I was a teen, and father, I don’t know what happened.  One day he stopped calling.” Vincent reached for the portrait, then stopped.  “ShinRa never knew what happened to him. I could not find him.”

“I’m really sorry, Vin,” Cid said softly.  

Yuffie suddenly clung to his arm.  “When my mama died, oh, Vincent.” 

He looked down at her and over to Cid.  “It is in the past. I’m pleased to see everything has been kept up.  I was expecting the silver to be gone.” Vincent started to set the dining room table, lost in thought.

“This painting has your mother with some lab equipment,” Cid noted.  

Vincent nodded and put the plates on the mats.  “She was always studying chemicals. Her goal was to find a chemical reaction to create heat, something reliable.  When ShinRa first came and they spoke with her, they learned we have very little in the way of natural resources. We have natural gas, mountain wood, and that’s about it.”  

There was a bell chiming from below and Vincent nodded.  

“Excuse me.”  As he went to the ground floor to let the food and tailor in, Cid continued to examine portraits.  

“This explains a lot about him, I suppose,” he said as he looked at the formal painting on the wall.  “Super cute as a kid.” Cid picked up a portrait of Vincent with short hair, dressed in what might have been a school uniform.  Galian clothing was generally formal, though, so he wasn’t sure. “You know, the only time I ever heard of Gali was horror movies.”

“I was always told they secluded themselves because they thought the world was vulgar,” Yuffie said as she pulled a book from the shelf.  The print was tidy and small. “They’re super prudes and really uptight. This is way weird, though, being here.”

Cid nodded at her.  “Yeah, it feels like we’re intruding.  He’s such a quiet guy.” 

They could hear movement outside, and Yuffie put the book back, but Cid continued to hold the small portrait.  Vincent led three people into the room, one with a tall wooden box. He put it on a table by the dining table, nodded deeply and left, and the other two unfolded their bags and pulled out measuring tapes.

“Hey, Vincent?” Cid asked and finally put the portrait down on the table.  “Are you, like, royalty or something?” One tailor went to measure Yuffie, and the second Cid.  

He taped Cid’s elbows with his measuring tape and moved quickly, speaking quietly to himself as he measured.  He spoke to Vincent and looked over to Cid. 

“What?  What’s he need?” Cid asked as the man held out a few swatches towards him.  “Are these hankies or something?”

“They’re color swatches, just pick one you like.  He’ll have to send for an outfit. You’re broader than he realized.”

Yuffie snickered as the woman measuring her jotted something down.  

“She wants to know if you want green or yellow?”

Yuffie looked at the color swatches held before her.  “The green, it’s my favorite.”

Vincent spoke to them in AEspira, and the woman nodded and selected a bag, and handed it to Yuffie.  The tailor measured Vincent, then handed him a bag, and the clothiers started to pack things away. 

After they left Vincent gestured to Yuffie.  “Please, freshen up. The water is hot by now.”  She eagerly went to the bathroom for an honest bath.  

As Vincent examined what was brought to him, Cid sat down backwards in a chair.  “Hey, Vince?” he asked and rested his chin on the back of the chair. 

Vincent did not scold him.  “The tailor will return shortly.  His shop is not far away. Your jacket will be repaired in the morning.”

“You gonna be OK?” Cid asked in a gentle tone.

Vincent put the belt down and looked to Cid.  

“I mean, it’s gotta be weird, right?”

Vincent examined the boots and nodded at them.  “It is unusual.” The sabatons were sturdy, but not ornate.  Vincent couldn’t decide if it was an insult, or just a supply issue.

“You said this place never moves.”

Vincent looked over to Cid.  They could hear the pipes as the water started, and Vincent pulled out a pair of gloves.  “Stability has long been a resource of Gali. By following traditions and keeping with them Gali has fought off many foes.  There are precious little resources, so things must be maintained.”

“Why’d you leave?  Get out? Join ShinRa?”

Vincent eyed him, but his face wasn’t as stoic as it usually was.  It wasn’t boredom or disinterest, but Cid couldn’t place his expression.  Cid continued to stare at him, last cigarette in his mouth, wondering how long he would have to stare to move the conversation along.  

Finally, Vincent spoke.  “It was different. Mother had passed on, and Father was burying himself in his research.  ShinRa came, looking for Mako, and found none, but insisted on staying, as if they thought we were lying.  Once they realized there really was nothing to be gained in Gali, they left.”

Vincent held out his shirt and examined it.  “That’s when I realized there was nothing for me here.  I wasn’t interested in Mother or Father’s research, I didn’t want to become a lawyer or an accountant, so I asked to go with ShinRa.  I quickly picked up Midland, but they mocked me, my grammar and my accent. Then they saw how talented a gunman I was, that I was agile, and willing to work, to leave, to become something other than a little rich boy.  So they took me.” The clothes seemed to be in order, and the bell chimed again. “Excuse me.” Vincent left to get the door and Cid examined the family portrait again. 

Yuffie emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp and looking quite pleased with herself.  “Hey, goat man!”

“Hey.”  Cid looked back to the portrait.  “I ain’t gonna make fun of his accent any more.  The guy learned Midland the hard way, ya know? It’s not like there’s a book or anything.”

Vincent entered the room and handed Cid a package.  “These should fit. You can use the bath, now.” 

Cid bathed quickly, wondering why the hot and cold water had separate controls, and dressed.  The hose were thick and slightly baggy, but the gray pants were wide enough, and the ankles slitted.  Cid laced them loosely and pulled on the undershirt and shirt. How did Vincent survive all this wool?  The undershirt, hose and boxers was a different material, though, something soft and smooth.

“Gotta get me more of these!”  He liked the feel of the fabric, and wondered if Yuffie’s underwear were made of the same material.  He then smacked himself in the temple. He didn’t need to be thinking of a kid’s underwear! The shirt was a color neither blue nor green, and he was surprised at how white and crisp the linen scarf was they gave him while his silk scarf was being cleaned.  He returned to the dining room.

“There are appetisers.  Please help yourself.” Vincent had put some bread, fruit and wine on the table, and Vincent went to get bathed and changed.  

Cid hoped he left enough hot water, and sat with Yuffie in the sitting room.  She was eating round pink berries and something that looked like blackberries, but in a pale blue.

“Gali’s a lot different than I thought I would be,” she admitted.  “I was expecting cold stone and metal. But it’s very warm, here.” She poured herself a glass of wine.  “And it’s his house and he said I could drink wine.” Yuffie stuck her tongue out and took a long drink, then screwed her face up and coughed.  She grabbed a bottle of gold juice instead.

Cid ignored it for now.  “Yeah, his bathing all the time makes sense, now, too.  When you’re in close, cozy places like this you don’t wanna be full of stank.”  They could smell the food in the box and they sat snacking on the appetisers he had put out for them.  “This cheese is weird, never had anything like it.” 

Vincent emerged from the bath, wearing clothes similar to what he had before, and put the box on the table.  

“Gotta admit, Vin, Galians are sharp dressers.”  

Vincent nodded at him.  He unlatched the bottom and pulled the top of the box off, and put a soup tureen and some dishes on the table.  “Supper is ready.” They sat at the table and Vincent started to uncover the dishes. “Pork and apple stew, roasted rhubarb and sunberries, root mash and strong bread,” he said as he pointed to each dish.

“What the hell’s a rhubarb?” Cid asked as Vincent ladled out the stew . “I can get that, Vince.”

“You are my guests, this is my duty.”  He served Cid, then Yuffie then himself, and gestured to them.  “Enjoy.” 

They ate quietly, and Cid poked at his rhubarb.  It was sweet and went well with the pork and apple stew.  

“I’m surprised you’re not asking questions,” Vincent said suddenly.

“Well, it’s just, you know,” Cid said with a roll of his hand.  “I don’t wanna upset you again. You’re home, I don’t want that ruined that for you.”  

Vincent ate quietly for a bit.  

“It’s good to see you eating for a change.”

Vincent had actually taken a good portion of meat for a change.  “My body is weakened, I need to become stronger.” 

Cid took a large bite of whatever root mash was.  It turned out to be similar to potatoes, despite being deep red.  “So, you, um, sorta turned into a werewolf back there, couldn’t help but noticing,” Cid said with a roll of his hand.  “That, um, that happen often?”

Vincent took a longer sip of wine than usual.  “It is what he did to me.” He speared a sunberry with his fork.  “It is not something I planned to do, but they hurt you.” He ate the berry and took a long drink of wine, and Cid reached over and refilled Vincent’s glass.  Vincent nodded and took another drink. “I am, I am aware as the beast. I guide it, but the rage, I let it go. I’m sorry.”

“You were protecting us!” Yuffie said and slapped the table.  “Nothing wrong with that!”

“You liiiiike us!” Cid teased.  “You think we’re freiiiiiiiinnnnnndsssss!”

Vincent snorted into his wine.  “I wouldn’t have escaped ShinRa and made it to Gali on my own.”

“Friends!  Friends! Friends!” Yuffie said and started pounding the table, and Cid joined in.  “Friends! Friends! Friends!” they chanted, laughing at the relief and stupidity of it.

The sound confused them.

It was a soft hum that broke into a rhythm, then died down again.  

“Are you laughing?” Cid asked in disbelief.  “I didn’t know you could!”

Vincent snorted through his nose.  “There’s much you don’t know about me.”

“Like you can get drunk.”  Cid topped off Vincent’s drink.

“I can’t get drunk,” Vincent insisted and took a long drink.  

Cid grinned and watched him drink.  

They finished their meal with a crisp white drink, and Vincent led them upstairs, bedclothes in hand.  He returned with some pitchers of water for washing up in the morning. “Please respect their rooms,” he asked quietly, and Cid gave him a long look.

“What’s your room look like?” he asked, honestly curious.

“That’s personal.”

“Just a peek?” he asked, and Vincent exhaled through his nose.  “Just a little?” 

Vincent opened his door and Cid looked inside.  The room had a long, slender bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.  There were a few portraits and landscapes on the wall, but nothing exciting.  The Gali just seemed to be a boring people.

“Satisfied?” Vincent asked and Cid scratched the side of his nose.

“I was hoping for a poster or two, or something.  A motorcycle.”

“Good night, Cid.”  Vincent closed his door and Cid sighed.  

He opened Vincent’s father’s door, what was his name?  Grim one? His father’s room felt more lived in, and he spotted a more recent portrait of Vincent.  That was weird to think of, that thirty years ago was a recent portrait.

Vincent’s hair was short and he was wearing a blue dress suit, a Turk suit.  He wasn’t quite smiling, but his eyes were friendlier. He was more relaxed, with a richer color to his cheeks.  “You’re really hurting, ain’tcha?” Cid asked the portrait and sat on the bed. The bedclothes were loose pants and a hip length shirt, and Cid quickly changed.  The bed was firm yet comfortable enough, and had curtains around all four posts. “Don’t Galians believe in fresh air?” The vents let circulation in, but Cid had no idea if he could stay more than a few days in such a cold and stuffy environment.

As Cid examined the room he noticed a door, and he scratched his chin.  He stood up and tugged on the door, noting it was locked, and examined the handle.  There was no button, but he did see a sliding deadbolt, and Cid slid it aside and opened the door.  “Huh.”


	9. FFVII Sidequest - 09 - Conversations in the Dark  (Adult Content)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid and Vincent talk and get physical. Some character development, no plot. Adult content. If you wish to skip it, it's between the -+-+-+- .

Yuffie stood there, staring up at him, wearing clothes of a similar cut.  The doors only had knobs on one side, so both people would have to unlock and open the door from their side.  

“Galians are weird,” she noted, and Cid nodded.  “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to shut this, lock it, and go to bed.”

“Probably for the best.  Vincent’s a morning person, of all things.”  Cid shut and locked the door, then looked around the room.  He flipped through some books, opened the wardrobe, and flicked up the bed skirt.  “Ah, bingo!” 

He pulled a box out from under the bed and opened it, but was disappointed when it was only research papers.  He flipped through, hoping for something interesting, but it was all notes in whatever the Gali called their written language and sketches of monsters.  An actual photograph fell out, however, and Cid picked it up.

Vincent was young, not quiet twenty, with a firm face.  He was surrounded by older Turks, and Cid didn’t realize how young he had been when he joined them.  He scratched his chin as he examined the picture closer. “What happened to you?” he wondered out loud and ran his thumb over the picture.  Cid was tired, but he knew he couldn’t sleep. He put the picture back in the box and shoved it under the bed.

He got up and quietly crossed the hall, and knocked on Vincent’s door.

Vincent slowly opened it.  “Is there something I can help you with?”  Cid could see the lamp was on and he had been reading at his desk.

“Can we talk?” Cid asked.  “Like you said at dinner, I haven’t asked a lot of questions, I just gotta unpack some stuff, you know?”  

Vincent gestured at the chair and took a seat on the bed.  He had tied his hair into a loose braid and was now brushing it out again.

Cid sat in the chair and picked up the book.  “What’s this?”

“My journal.  You may read it.”  

Cid scooped it up and flipped through it, hoping he didn’t look too excited, then pursed his lips.

The handwriting was tidy and would have been perfectly legible if it had been in Midland.  Cid put the book down. He wasn’t sure if Vincent was smiling at first, but he was learning to read his reserved emotions.

“What did you wish to talk about?” Vincent asked.  

Cid wondered if he should open with another apology.  That seemed to go a long way with Vincent, but what if he asked Cid to explain what he was sorry for?  

“Cid?” Vincent asked patiently.  

“I’m sorry,” Cid mumbled.  “I don’t know you very well, I don’t know what to talk about.  The things I want to talk about would upset you and I don’t want that.  I’ve always been able to ask anyone anything, I don’t know why I’m can’t do it now.”  Cid looked up at him. “I think you broke me.”

“My apologies,” Vincent said quietly.

“Oh, c’mon, now, stop that!  This ain’t your fault!” Cid interrupted his next apology.  “I just want to get to know you better.” He sighed and looked at his hands. 

“Why?”  Vincent seemed honestly confused.

Cid had a bit of trouble answering at first.  “Well, you’re interesting.” Cid looked up to him.  “You’re really smart, even if you’re different smart.  You’re loyal. You’re actually kinda sorta fun to be around.  I’ll admit I didn’t like you much when we first met, you just made me feel all weird and warm and it frustrated me that you didn’t like me.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes at Cid.  “You hit me with your boot.”

“Oh, it’s my boot now?  I can have it back?” Cid hoped he kept the hope out of his voice.

“It was until you hit me with it.”  Vincent’s voice was firm and Cid understood he was not yet getting the boot back.

“Anyways, I’ve come to learn that you’re a weird, complex guy.  And I like that about you. I’d like to be your friend.”

“You should go.”  Vincent’s voice was small as he stood and opened the door.

“What?  Why?”

Vincent's head slumped and his hair covered his face.  “I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly. “I am the cause of all of this!  If I had done something, anything,” Vincent insisted, and Cid took him by the arms.

“You.  Died.” Cid didn’t understand any of what happened.  “You’ve suffered enough. You don’t deserve to suffer any more.”  

Vincent remained quiet, his eyes darting about the room, trying to focus on something, anything that wasn’t Cid’s warm, firm hands on his arms.  

“I don’t want you suffering.”

Vincent should have known a soul as light-tempered as Cid's could never understand.  “My penance is not done.”

“Then fix it.”  

Vincent looked at him, unsure what Cid was trying to say.  

Cid gently brushed some hair from Vincent’s cheek and tucked it behind his ear.  “You can’t just stagnate. If you want your penance to be over, you have to go out and fix it.  You gotta get out there and work for it, not just wait for it to come to you! Didn’t you say hard work pleases the soul?”

“I don’t recall saying that.”

“Huh.”  Cid chewed on his lip a little.  “Thought it was something you might have said.  But laying around and sleeping in coffins and expecting the world to save itself so you’ll be saved isn’t working.  It hasn’t worked for thirty years. Help us, and you’ll help yourself at the same time.” 

Vincent pulled back and crossed his arms.  “You seem uncharacteristically wise tonight.”

“I had a lot to think about.”  Cid slid his hand over Vincent’s ear and pulled him into kiss that Vincent didn’t object.  Cid pulled back, leaving Vincent breathing deeply, eyes closed.

Vincent slowly opened his crimson eyes.  “You can’t love me.”

“Why?”

“I’m not human.”

“I don’t care.”  Cid wrapped his arm around Vincent’s waist and pulled him tighter, and Vincent wrapped his arms around Cid’s shoulders.  He suddenly froze, though, and pulled back, and Cid held tight. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you afraid of?” Cid asked.

Vincent’s eyes flickered over Cid’s face.  “Nothing immortal can fall in love.”

“But you’ll always have golden memories of us, right?  Like getting shitfaced, we fell off of a tram, man, shit!  Saving the world, you don’t forget shit like that.”

“Quit saying shit.”

“Memories!”

“You hit me with a boot.”  Vincent’s voice almost sounded amused.

“You’ll always remember me as a good shot with a fucking boot then, won’t you?”  Cid looked up at Vincent’s eyes. “You know, you do smile, in a weird way. It’s not that you get happy, but your face gets less sad.  That make any sense? You get this kind of confused look, like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  Just, fuck, man, for one night, for just one night, we don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but, be happy.”  Cid gently kissed him again and Vincent held him closer. “Just, you know, just so you know I’m robbing the cradle and the grave here.”

“I beg your pardon?” Vincent snapped suddenly as Cid laughed.  

There it was, that insulted tone Cid suddenly realized he loved to hear!  “You’re, like, ten years younger than me and twenty years older at the same time!”  

Vincent found himself unable to be irritated at Cid laughing for a change, confused at his own body.  What DID he want? 

Cid tugged on Vincent’s collar and his lips met Vincent’s neck, and the brunet melted a little.  Cid shoved a hand in Vincent's shirt to fondle him as he nibbled, and Vincent’s breathing changed.

Cid shoved him onto the bed and Vincent sat there in a trance like state as Cid pulled Vincent’s shirt off, breaking contact with his neck only long enough to let the shirt over Vincent’s head.  “You ever know anyone like this before?” Cid grinned, and Vincent shook his head. Why wasn’t he objecting? “Well, ain’t you in for a treat!”

“Don’t be so cavalier.” 

“Hello, clavicle!” Cid said as he licked Vincent’s collarbone.

“That’s not what I,” Vincent started, but stopped once Cid reached his neck again.  

Cid’s knee was suddenly in his groin, rubbing, and Vincent slapped his hands over his own mouth when he moaned, slapping Cid on the way.  Cid just grinned and continued. 

“Make noise, it’s fine.  No one here but us,” he hissed into Vincent's ear.  Cid blew on Vincent’s neck as he pressed his hand down Vincent’s pants and scratched the soft spot between his belly and groin.  

Vincent gave a breathy moan under his hands and Cid reached lower.  

“Hey, help out.  Get your pants off.”

Vincent nodded as Cid continued to suck on his neck, gettings his sleep pants undone.  Cid then tucked his thumbs under Vincent’s boxers and tugged, bringing his pants to his knees.  Cid undid his own pants, shaking them off as he crawled over Vincent’s body. He said nothing as he lifted Vincent’s legs and held Vincent’s thighs shut.

Vincent’s confusion was suddenly exchanged for electricity as Cid shoved himself between Vincent’s thighs, and for the first time Vincent felt a second person’s touch.  Cid held Vincent’s thighs shut with one arm and reached around with the other, gripping both their cocks, and Vincent shoved his hands over his face and moaned again.

“Nice to know you can make noise.”  Cid continued to thrust, pleased with his progress.  Cid nibbled on Vincent’s ankle and grinned at the way Vincent’s toes twitched.  “How ya’ doing down there?” 

Vincent kept his hands pressed over his face and bit his thumb, trying not to make noise.  

Cid’s hand trailed over Vincent’s thighs and stomach, flicked his nipples and caressed his face, and Vincent’s back arched as Cid drew his hand back down to Vincent’s groin.  “How is it?” Cid asked as he adjusted Vincent’s hips. 

Vincent could do nothing but breathe heavily.  

Cid was getting a little concerned.  “What was that? Didn't catch it. Have to stop to listen to you.”

“Don’t stop,” Vincent said quietly.  “Don’t stop!” 

Cid started again with vigor, and circled one of Vincent’s nipples.  He was pleased at how limber Vincent's hips were! Cid finally came to his satisfaction, but Vincent was still laying in a cold sweat.

“I suppose I should finish you off.  Surprised you lasted this long, virgin boy.”  He gave Vincent a few strokes, making he brunet shudder.  “You’re so close, aren’t you?” Cid expertly manipulated Vincent, squeezing the base of the head.

Vincent gave off a throaty sound and Cid finally relented, letting Vincent have relief.  Vincent lay there, panting and damp, as Cid kissed his neck and shoulders. 

He then lay on top of Vincent and listened to him breathe.  Their hands found each other and gripped tightly, and Cid gently kissed Vincent’s neck.  

“So,” Vincent hissed quietly.  “So.” He couldn’t seem to say anything else, and Cid wasn’t sure if it was Midland or AEspira.

“Hey, not bad for your first time, right?” Cid asked, feeling their bodies relax.  “How do you feel?” 

Vincent lay under him, his hands rippling against Cid’s.

“Vin?”  

Vincent nodded at Cid and swallowed.  

Cid helped him sit up and Vincent suddenly clung to him, and Cid held him tight.  “Hey, it’s OK, you’re OK.” Cid placed a lingering kiss on Vincent’s temple and rocked him gently.  

Cid’s first time had been awkward and uncomfortable, and he was always certain Lena Rose didn’t like it, either.  His first time with a guy was just as bad, since Brom had assumed Cid was more experienced than he was. Both times Cid had wished to be held afterwards, and he cradled Vincent in that manner.  

Life was too short to be an inconsiderate lover.  

“Let’s get a little tidy, right?” Cid asked after a few minutes and Vincent nodded.  Cid used the water from the pitcher and ewer to tidy up, and Vincent sat there, quietly.  Cid washed himself up and sat next to Vincent.

“That,” he said softly, “I don’t know.  I don't know how I feel.” Vincent seemed confused and lost.

“Well, let’s take it from the top.”  Cid tried not to show he was a little freaked.  “Good feeling, bad feeling?”

“You’re going to be angry.”  

Cid wrapped his arm around Vincent’s waist.  

“You deserve better than me,” Vincent said quietly.  “Someone who knows how.”

“You’re just fine.  I feel a little sleepy, now, and I just want to hold you.”  Cid stood up and hauled Vincent to his feet so he could adjust the bedding.  “Here, in you go.” He lay down next to Vincent and held him close, and Vincent pressed himself close to Cid’s body.  “You’re scaring me a little. Talk to me.”

“I feel like, like I’ve found a puzzle piece.”  

They lay there together, breathing, and Cid could see the reflection of Vincent’s eyes on his skin.  When Vincent closed his eyes the light flickered, and they both arranged their arms until they found a good position.  

“For the briefest of time, I,” Vincent said softly and Cid gave an encouraging hum to continue, “felt warm.”

“Wanna feel it again?” Cid asked with a cocky grin and Vincent exhaled through his nose.

“This is nice.”  

Cid could feel Vincent’s body cool a little as he fell asleep.  

“This is nice,” he murmured again, and Cid kissed the top of his head as he drifted off.


	10. FFVII Sidequest - 10 - The Job the Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the trio can leave there’s a complication.

Who was knocking?  Cid stood up and opened the door.  

“Why are you in Vincent’s room?” Yuffie demanded as she tapped her foot.

“Why do you think?” Cid snapped and Yuffie looked up at him.

“You finally boned?” she asked and Cid blocked her view of the inside.  “You’ve been wanting to do that ever since you threw your boot at him. You better be good to him or you’ll never be able to hide from my wrath!”

Cid was neither impressed or threatened.  “Go be a punk ass ninja somewhere else.” He shut the door and leaned against it.  “So, she knows.”

Yuffie was pounding on the door.  “You can buy my silence! Three materia!”  

Vincent was blushing as he sat on the edge of the bed.  

Cid looked over to Vincent.  “You OK?” 

Vincent slowly got dressed.  “I need some time to process last night,” he said quietly, and Cid nodded at him.  

He suddenly gripped Vincent’s hair and pulled him close, and kissed him deeply.  

“Stop that,” Vincent said gently through Cid’s lips.

“Make me,” Cid shot back, and suddenly he was rolling forwards.  He hit the bed and his arm was hauled behind his back, and he could hear Vincent exhale through his nose.  “I deserved that. I’m sorry.” Cid wriggled as the hands loosened. “OK, you made me. When the hell did you learn kung fu?  Or whatever that was?” Cid suddenly started to laugh and Vincent’s hands released him. “Looks like I’m right where you want me!”  

Vincent sighed heavily through his nose as Cid leaned back and spread his legs open.  “The longer I’m awake the stronger I’m get, and the more I’m remembering what I can do.”  He turned and offered his hand to Cid, but when Cid took it, made no offer to pulled him up.  

Cid pulled him down, instead, and he fell lightly on him, resting his head on Cid’s shoulder.  Cid gently kissed the top of Vincent’s head. 

Vincent then stood up and took Cid’s wrist, pulling him up.  “We should depart. We need to meet up with the others. Maer Gérard should have the supplies delivered by now.”  Vincent gave himself a quick sniff, certain Cid spotted the motion, and grateful Cid didn’t tease him. He slept too deep last night to wake up to the first church bells to bathe.

“You’re too clean.”  As they opened the door to leave Cid raised his hand up, but stopped before he could clap Vincent’s bottom.  “A slap is too much?”

“Perhaps.”  

Cid held the door open and Vincent exited, and Cid pinched his bottom.  

Vincent jumped and whirled around.  “Highwind!”

“You’re just so pinchable!” Cid laughed and Vincent pointed to the hall.

“Five materia for my silence, now, goat!” Yuffie threatened.

“Breakfast and supplies will be delivered soon.  We should be prepared.” Vincent continued to hold the door open for Cid, and Cid remained where he was.  “I would like to get dressed, please.” 

Yuffie grabbed Cid’s shirt and hauled, and Cid finally left the room.

Cid muttered angrily to himself as he got dressed.  What was with him? Cid took a deep breath as he pulled his clothes on and he rubbed his temples.  Why was he angry at Vincent? The man was experimented on, isolated for almost three decades, pulled into a quest he probably didn’t understand, hauled out into the sunlight which made him dizzy, assaulted by a madwoman who wanted him for god knows what, and he had sex with a charming and talented man.  No wonder he was confused.

Cid walked downstairs, hoping breakfast was as good as dinner.  He could hear conversations, and he left the wooden part of the house.  He could see Vincent at the door leading outside, talking to someone through a window in the door.  Their voices were quiet and controlled, so Cid couldn’t even make out the context.

« It is your duty. »

« It is nothing that I am involved in.  »

« I would expect nothing less from the son of Grimoire Valentine. »  

There, Cid knew a name, and Vincent’s stiffening posture.  

« So be it. We will need a meal and some hunting supplies. »  

The door opened and a box like the one supper came in last night was pressed through, and Vincent turned without nodding or saying anything.  

Vincent slumped briefly, resting his head against the door, then took a deep breath and stood up straight.  He looked up and spotted Cid watching him. “Breakfast is here.” 

Cid could hear the door lock from the outside.  “That didn’t seem a happy conversation.” 

Vincent simply walked past him, into the dining room.  “There is a problem.” Vincent started setting the table, and Yuffie started putting the cups out.  “Please, I am the host.” Vincent took the plates and cups from her and gestured to the chairs. 

Yuffie and Cid exchanged glances, and Cid tilted his head to the seats.  Cid and Yuffie let Vincent serve breakfast, which was more strong bread, hot beans with cubes of meat, boiled eggs, and some form of sliced apple stew.  Cid poured the tea and they started to eat and Vincent joined them, taking small bites. 

“What’s the issue?” Yuffie asked as she finished her apple stew first.

“My father’s reputation precedes us.”  

Cid and Yuffie waited for him to continue.  Yuffie had learned from watching Cid that staring was a good way to move a conversation with Vincent forward.

“My father was a scientist, a natural philosopher.  Some of his work was rather controversial, and its remains were sealed away.  He studied monsters, gods, and deities.”

“This sounds kinda dangerous,” Yuffie said as she scraped her bowl clean.  

Vincent lifted his bread, and she looked at him.  He then wiped his bowl; when she followed suit, he nodded briefly.  

“And they want you to take care of your father’s actions?” Cid asked as he wiped his beans up with his bread.  Why was it called strong bread? It was dense, but not like any he had had before.

Vincent snorted, then exhaled through his nose and nodded.  “They expect no less from a Valentine, much less the son of Grimoire.”  He used his bread on his own beans. “My sudden reappearance and lack of aging is not helping.  I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this.”

“It’s fine, Vinnie,” Cid said as they collected the dishes.

“They are bringing supplies, possibly weapons.”

“I hope they bring my jacket,” Cid grumbled as he popped an egg in his mouth.  He didn’t slice it like Vincent did, an obviously quiet attempt to teach him some Galian table manners.  “So, what are we up against?”

“I will have to check my father’s notes.”  He collected the dishes and put them in the box.  

The bell chimed and Cid stood up.  “I’ll get it. You get the notes and stuff ready.”  He took the box from Vincent’s hands and walked to the ground floor.  He opened the door window and winked at the man standing there. “Hey, you Galaian bastard, thanks for the food!  Very tasty! Got my jacket?”

The guards opened the door and took the meal box, and handed over a box and a spear.  Cid’s eyes lit up as he accepted the spear, running his hand down the shaft and examining the long blade and hooked fluke.  It was a guard spear, like the ones the guards in front of city hall wielded, but like all things in Arcata it was ornate and etched with scrolls.  Cid bowed his head deeply, hoping to convey his appreciation, and they nodded their heads back. He took the box and shut the door, hearing it lock from the outside.

As Cid turned to walk back upstairs he took his right boot and moved it from Vincent’s boots and put it next to his left boot.  He took the box and spear upstairs and Yuffie skipped over to him.

“It.  Is. So.  BORING,” she hissed at him.

Cid shrugged as he put the box on the table.  “That’s why everything is so ornate.” 

She eagerly opened the box and pulled the top layer of fabric off.  She pulled out three satchels, each with a small selection of bottles, what appeared to be meal bars, and a skin of water.  “Hn, nice knives. Don’t mind if I do! Too bad there’s no materia.”

The door opened and Vincent entered.  “Father’s notes are not helpful at this time.  I can find nothing about a monster down below. There are a few references, but nothing solid.”  Vincent examined the contents briefly. “Hm, nothing for me. I shall return shortly.” Cid followed Vincent upstairs into his father’s room.  “Still watching me, I see?”

“Just a little worried.”  

Vincent dialed the safe and pulled it open, and looked at the guns within.  

“That’s a lot of firepower,” Cid said with a whistle.  Several guns in various sizes and lengths met him, each one elaborate and elegantly decorated.  Vincent swapped out his service pistol for something a little more fancy. 

“My family has a history of sharpshooters.  This is Red Impact.” 

Cid didn’t know much about guns, but he knew a powerful weapon when he saw it.  It looked similar Vincent’s lost service revolver, but the barrel was longer and the grip thicker.  It was forged from silvery metal with red enamel swirled throughout. 

“Well, it looks nice.”  

Vincent unstrapped his holster form his thigh and pulled out a black holster with the same red spirals and swirls.  

“Everything here is so elaborate!” Cid laughed as Vincent locked the gun safe.

“It’s because there is nothing else to do.”  

Cid wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

Vincent left his father’s room and paused before entering his mother’s.  He walked over to her dress form, a half finished outfit still pinned in place.  Vincent gently ran his hand over the shoulder, then carefully removed the pendant.  He pulled it on and tucked it under his shirt.

Yuffie was waiting on the steps.  “You gonna be OK?” she asked and Vincent said nothing.  “That looks pretty strong. Not a lot of materia here. Is it a lightning?”  She kept trying to get a glimpse of the shining materia.

“Mother prefered lightning.”  Vincent stopped and eyed her. “I take it you investigated?”  

She gave a nervous giggle and scuffed her foot against the floor.  

“Materia is rare, as the mako runs too deep.”  He patted the pendant under his shirt. “Come. We have a job to do.”  

They pulled their boots, cloaks, and bags on quietly.  In the back of the ground floor was a rug that Vincent pulled aside.  There was a trapdoor underneath, and he grunted as he hauled it open. He huffed heavily through his nose and stomped twice, releasing a chain ladder.  He started to climb down, twisting valves as he went, lighting the gas lights that led to the sewer. They climbed down for almost forty feet before reaching the ground.

“Arcata has hidden depths,” Cid quipped as Vincent lit the next valve.  

Vincent ignored him and held the chain ladder still as Yuffie and Cid descended.  

“Why couldn’t we just fly down?”

Vincent shook his head.  “I can’t fly.”

“Why couldn’t we just float down?” Cid asked in the exact same tone.

“Because floating both of you down would be difficult and tiring.”  Vincent twisted one last valve and the sewer glowed to life.

“Vincent?” Yuffie asked as she walked up to the gate blocking them from a city street, “are we still underground?”  

There were no trees or animals, and no sign of life save the abandoned buildings.  The city street was covered, and the gas lights whisked the darkness away. 

“Some time ago there was a quake, and the water table changed, and the foundations were damaged.”  He knocked on a wall and gestured to a large crack. “It was easier to cover the streets and rebuild, and it raised the city so the Great Mirror could light it better.”  He rooted through his satchel, and snapped a word in AEspira Cid assumed was very foul. “There are no keys.”

There was a sudden rattle as the chain ladder ascended quickly.  Cid went to leap for it but Vincent took his shoulder. 

“And no way out.  Why?” Cid demanded.

“My guess?  Maer Gérard is not fond of me.” They heard something rattling where the gas lights couldn’t reach.  “He eliminates me, claims the heritage, but to what end? There’s nothing that would advance him.” 

Cid and Vincent looked over as the door swung open.  Yuffie shook her lockpicks at them and gestured for them to leave.

 

\---

 

They had been walking for almost half an hour in the oppressive silence of Old Arcata.  Cid thought it amazing how much of the city had been recreated on the surface, how many details had been preserved.  

“Why does Gali not move?” Cid asked in wonder.  “It’s just like above. It’s an exact copy, almost!”

“I’ve explained before, and I dislike repeating myself.”  Vincent continue to walk. He didn’t want to explain it, but walking in the dead city scared him.  

He could hear Yuffie humming beside him, trying not to be nervous.  Almost every time they tried to turn a corner, she had to pick another lock on another fence.  He looked down at Cid and Yuffie, and huffed strongly through his nose. There was no reason not to explain.

“Gali is resource poor, and unlucky.  This way.” 

Yuffie opened another gate and they kept kept walking.  

“Every time there’s been a major change, horrible things happen.  We get a new well, the river floods. We try new trade, there is a plague.  We dig new mines, the city collapses. After so many disasters, you fix things in time, you keep them from moving.  And thus, Gali stands still.” 

Yuffie opened another gate and they wandered inside.

Vincent’s shoulders rose and fell in a dramatic sigh.  

“You have no idea what we’re going or where we’re doing, do you?” Cid asked, and Vincent sighed through his nose.

“There’s a monster under the city my father created sixty years ago and it’s just now started to attack people.  We kill the monster, and we’ll be able to leave.” He suddenly stopped and exhaled softy through his nose again. “We’re living the movie we watched.”

“Sexy Brunettes Seven?” Cid asked and wriggled his eyebrows.  

Yuffie made a disgusted face and Vincent put two fingers on Cid’s forehead and pushed him away.  

“The Kalm Incident,” Vincent almost groaned in agitation.

“Oh, I hate that movie!  The scene where she gets dragged through the mirror gave me nightmares!” Yuffie whined.  “Wait, everyone died in that movie!” Yuffie opened another door. “Like the woman that got hauled into the painting!”

“The city is stripped, there are no paintings.”  Vincent kept walking.

“Or mirrors,” Yuffie added.

Cid thought of one of his favorite special effects.  “Tapestries.”

“Closets full of scarves.”

“Chandeliers.”  

Cid and Yuffie amused themselves by naming things, anything, just trying to figure out just what the plan was.

Finally Vincent came to a building.  “Here, great grandfather’s old workshop.  It’s been in the family since Clerus Valentine had it built.  We might find something in here.” He gestured for Yuffie to unlock the door, then they stepped inside.


	11. FFVII Sidequest - 11 - The Unlit City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio find their quarry, Vincent has a flashback, and there's some lust and innuendo.

Workshop wasn’t quite the right word.  Abandoned library was closer, but still not right.  Unfinished bad dream felt better. There were shelves built into the walls, the rolling ladders long missing.  The metal guard rails on the second floor were missing, and Cid suddenly realized none of the buildings had windows.  Everything valuable had been stripped, and Cid was surprised they still had doors. Most of the pipes that warmed and lit the city were missing, and the only thing keeping them above freezing was the still, unmoving air.  They needed to find a way out.

Vincent muttered in AEspira, and looked over.  “I was so hoping this would be it.” 

They stood in their woolen cloaks in the silence, and Cid eyed Yuffie.  The edge of her long ribbon fluttered, despite the dead air and her lack of motion.  There was an open door somewhere. 

Vincent looked as if he were about to show a more active and frustrated emotion when they heard the noise.

It was the scrape of skin against stone, and the three of them quickly readied themselves.  Cid hauled off his cloak, Yuffie pulled out her knives and Vincent readied Red Impact, and the three followed the sound as it moved through the built in shelves.

Cid quickly took charge, motioning for Yuffie to to the right, for Vincent to move back, and for himself, he crouched, exhaled, and leapt.  The former dragoon easily cleared the table and landed neatly on top of the shelves, getting a clear view of the room.

Something long and sinuous was winding through the shelves and he readied his spear, signalling to Yuffie to be still and for Vincent to move counterclockwise through the building.

When Yuffie broke left and went low, Cid realized that all three of them probably had different hand signals.  He swore and looked over to Vincent. “Some sorta snake!” he shouted. “Kid, pull back! Back and right! Vince!  Cover me!”

His shout attracted the creature which reared its frost-rimed snake head, covered in tipped scales and a mossy fur.  It spat a fluid at him, but Cid didn’t wait to see what it did. He sprung, spear ready, aiming for the eye socket. He could see its head snap back as a single shot, loud and terrifying, cracked through its mouth.  The point of Cid’s weapon found its mark and his weight drove the head down. 

He landed with a crunch, his old skills kicking in, and he rolled from his spear as the neck whipped around.  Cid turned back, gripped the spear, and wrenched, twisting it in the wound. The neck writhed and went stiff, dragging the head back, and Yuffie lept on the head.  She grabbed the spear and hauled, breaking it free, and tumbled off the beasts head. 

It retreated, thrashing and hissing, into the darkness.  “Was that it? Can we get out of here now?” Yuffie asked as she handed the spear to Cid.

“We gotta finish the job.  I ain’t leaving nothing to die a slow death.”  

Vincent nodded at Cid and handed him his cloak, and they followed the trail of blood to the back of the building.

There was a hole in the foundation, one that led to the alley, and they quickly left through the front and entered the alley.  The trail of blood led down the path of flickering lights, which confused Vincent. 

Cid followed vincent’ concerned gaez to one of the light fixtures.  “I don’t understand the lights. They get gas, why aren’t they bright?”  Cid brushed the dust from a tube and examined it. “Weird.” 

Around them a strange moss started to grow on the buildings, first in the spaces the walls met the ground, then the cracks and holes and gaps where the windows once were.  It started to cluster around the lights and lamps as they passed, Vincent examined some of the pipes closer to the ground.

“The moss is growing between the tubes.”  He tapped one and thought about it. 

Cid knelt down next to him.  “Double walled tubes?” he asked, and Vincent nodded.  Cid tapped the pipes, always a hands-on thinker, and Vincent flicked Cid’s hand away.  “How’d the moss get in there?”

Vincent shrugged a little and huffed out his nose.  “There must be a crack somewhere.” 

The both looked down the street, and they realized the trail of blood was following the growing darkness.  The two men looked to each other and nodded, realizing that following the blood meant following the darkness.  

“Yuffie, we’re going this way,” Cid said in a tired tone, and the three of them started walking into the dim.

Cid was getting tired of hearing nothing but their own breathing and the clack of their boots on the floor.  Ground. Street. Stone. He didn’t care what it was called any more, he just wanted to get out of there.

“Hey, Vince?” Cid asked, just to break the silence.  He looked over and Cid took it as a cue to continue. “What’s the weird door between your parent’s rooms?

“We didn’t open them!” Yuffie lied quickly.

Vincent continued walking.  “It’s a custom,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “It gives the married couple the ability to be alone if they so choose to, or together.  In some houses the wall slides open.” 

Cid thought of all the times he had to close doors on Shera.  “I get that.” 

They continued walking into the darkness.  Cid reached into his jacket and pulled out an electric torch, and he slowly panned it across the floor.  The blood was drying up and they were losing the trail.

They continued to walk, following the splattered blood into the fading light, and Yuffie finally made a strangled noise.  “This place is so! Damn! Stuffy!” she snapped as she dashed to a wall. She pulled off a chunk of stone and tossed it in a random direction.

“Dramatic much, punk?” Cid asked as Vincent sighed.

“There is nothing here!” Yuffie insisted.  “We wander blindly in darkness and there’s nothing to do and why is Arcata so!  Damn! Stuffy! There’s no air circulation!” She chucked another stone, Vincent following it with his eyes.

It landed with a shattering sound, and something on the other side of the wall moved.  There was a struggling noise, a flash of light, and something roaring in displeasure. Vincent quickly leapt, clearing the wall, and Cid followed.  He hadn’t used his dragoon training so much in so long, and he was just glad he landed competently. Yuffie scrambled up, clinging to invisible cracks and gaps in the mortar, landing next to Cid.

“It looks like your broke a tube, Yuf.   Look’it the gas go!” 

Vincent made a distressed sound and leapt down, drifting softly.  Cid hopped down, rolling when he landed, and Yuffie slid down the wall.  Vincent started tracking the pipe, and he found the emergency valve. He gripped it and twisted, and Cid came up.  

“Lemme see.”  Cid reached into his boot and pulled out his wrench.

Tifa kept spare gil in a zipper on her shoe.  Vincent and Cloud kept a combat or utility knife.  Yuffie kept whatever thing punk ass ninjas kept in their shoes.  Cid kept his adjustable wrench. He found the emergency shut off valve and twisted, and the gas stopped hissing.  “And that is an excellent idea.”

“That was Emiline Snow’s greatest contribution, the safety of the gas lights.  Her valves and double glass tubes are considered some of Gali’s greatest works. ”  

Cid put his wrench away and Vincent continued to examine the tube.  

“You shouldn’t have been able to break it so easily.”

“It’s pretty old, isn’t it?” Cid asked, and Vincent made a contemplative noise.  “Huh, but it’s a double tube.” Cid used a shard to prod at the moss between the inner and outer tubes.  “And full of moss.” Cid knew enough about science not to touch things with his bare hands.

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Vincent murmured as he examiend it.  “There’s not enough moisture?”

“Um, guys?” Yuffie said as she readied a knife.  

Something was shifting in the darkness.  Cid and Vincent drew their weapons and examined the darkness.   They could now smell the water and see it seeping up from the ground.

The three of them dashed in separate directions as a white head smashed into the ground they had been standing on.  It pulled back and swung, crashing into Cid and pinning him to the wall. Red Impact rang out twice, and Cid felt both impacts as the snake head shuddered.  The head was larger than the last one, almost four feet tall and six feet long, and as Cid shoved it away, a third eye opening on the top of its head.

“Vince?” Cid shouted as he strained to move the head.  “Any ideas?”

Yuffie launched herself and brought her knife down on the third eye, but the snake pulled back and whipped away, leaving her on the ground.  She rolled as she landed, and she and Cid collided when neither knew what the other was doing.

Red Impact was impossibly loud in the underground city, two more blasts driving the snake head back.  Cid crouched, gripped Yuffie and rolled her aside, and leapt, aiming his spear for the eye of the beast.  As he brought his spear down the eye opened wider and a single beam of light shot out. Cid grunted as he took the beam to the chest, and he spiraled toward the ground.

He didn’t make it.

Something firm and warm wrapped around him, and Vincent’s beast form put him gently on the ground.  Vincent leapt forward and locked his jaws on the thrashing neck. The snake retreated into the darkness, taking Vincent with it.

Cid swore in several languages, usually the only words he knew of other languages besides ‘tool shop’, ‘cigarettes,’ and ‘antiestablishmentarianism,’ and hauled Yuffie up.  “C’mon, kid,” he said rather unnecessarily, since he and Yuffie were already following the trail of blood with Cid’s flashlight.

« Scary scary scary scary, » Yuffie hissed to herself as they ran away into danger.  They had to slow down as the splatters jumped wildly around, evidence that the head was whipping around.  « Did you hear that? » 

“I ain’t a goat, kid,” Cid hissed as he stopped to listen.  

There was a crash and another roar, then a wet sound.  They crept forward, listening to the wet sound, flashlight held over Cid’s shoulder.  He handed his extra to her, and Yuffie held hers in the middle of her chest, eyes wild as she looked around.  Cid reached over and lifted it above her shoulder. They turned the corner, following the damp noise.

Vincent was slumped around the corner, vomiting.  Cid and Yuffie ran over, crouching low, and Yuffie reached him first.  

“Vince!” she hissed as Cid took a guarding stance.  

Vincent's clothes weren’t destroyed this time, but his knees and boots were covered in bile and the street in large chunks of questionable meat.  

Yuffie quickly pressed her water bottle into his hands.  “Vincent, are you OK?” She rubbed his back and he rinsed his mouth then spat in the street.

« I’ll never get rid of the taste, » he hissed.  He vomited bile and water and Yuffie held his hair.

“Yes, Cid’s a goat, we know.”  

Cid snorted at them and slowly panned his flashlight over the ground.  There was a clatter and a mechanical noise as Vincent reloaded Red Impact.  

“What happened?” Cid asked as he tried to examine their surroundings.

“There may be a giant bite taken out of its neck, now.” 

Cid helped a shaky Vincent to his feet and put his back to him.  

Vincent shook his hand at him.  “I’m better this time, thank you.  Let’s get this over with.” Vincent pulled out his mother’s materia from his shirt and held it up.  It glowed brightly without emitting lightning, and they walked into the shadows. “I think I know what the beast is.”

“How long can that hold a charge like that?” Yuffie asked nervously.

“Long enough.  My father was a researcher of monsters and myths.  Most of what ShinRa knows of monsters comes from my father’s research.  He was one of the few Gali to ever leave the country on a regular basis.  He would be gone for weeks at a time, once over three months. But he always returned.”  ‘Until he didn’t,’ he added silently.

“You think it’s something he found?” Cid asked as the followed the blood trail.  “Or made?”

“He wrote about it, but he never brought things home.  He was a natural philosopher, he observed and studied, but did not like removing things from their natural habitat.”  

They turned a corner, and the ground become crusted with moss and bones.  

Yuffie yelped as her electric torch passed over a human skull.  

“I should have brought his book.”

“What are we up against, Vin?” Cid asked as they spotted the dead snake head.  

Large chunks had been ripped and bitten out of it, and its middle eye was caved in.  They quickly moved their lights somewhere else, and Vincent managed not to vomit again.

“It’s called Hydra.”  

The head pulled back as the neck constricted, and a pair of eyes lit up in the dim.  “It is many.” 

Several pairs of eyes lit up and a low rumbling growl rattled the bones on the ground around them.  Several heads shot out and Cid and Yuffie ducked to the side. 

Vincent held the materia high.  The bolt was vibrant and left his hand with a clamorous roar, and Vincent wondered if he had ever seen such brightness before.

 

\---

 

“Vincent, come down for dinner!”  

Vincent sat cross legged on the floor, letting the light of the blue window shine on his face.  He liked the blue window with its overlapping diamonds and circles. It made the pictures in his book seem cold and fresh.  

“Vincent!” Sophia called again and hitched her split skirt up as she walked upstairs.  “Didn’t you hear me, my little ruby?” she asked and held her hands out.

“Do you think Papa will ever find the snow woman?” Vincent asked as he stood up.  

Sophia took the book and put it on the table in the hall.  “Shiva is one of his dreams, my gemstone. Come along, now, we’ve got company.  Father is ready to serve dinner.” 

They were both wearing some of their finest clothes, and Vincent didn’t like the yellow embroidery.  He liked red, like his eyes, but mother said it would be overwhelming tonight. 

“Now, they don’t speak AEspira well, you mustn’t mock them.”

“Yes, mother.”  Vincent obediently followed his mother to the first floor and into the dining room.

“He was in the hall reading again, Grimoire, that book on the ancient gods.”  

Grimoire took his five year old son in his strong hands and lifted him to kiss his cheek.  “Well, he’s got a fine mind, Sophia. This is my son, Vincent,” Grimoire said proudly. “Go to your seat, please.”  

Vincent nodded and dashed past their visitors.

The strange visitors were like nothing Vincent had ever seen, and they made him nervous.  A lot of things made the child nervous, though. The tram to Orda to visit his grandparents made him nervous.  Too much broth in the pork soup made him nervous, as did too little broth in the goat stew. Butterflies, in general, alarmed him, particularly the yellow ones.  What did they MEAN? He was certain there was a message.

Some of the strangers were pale, but didn’t have the warm golden skin tone Vincent’s family did, but rather a sandier color, like an off white shawl.  Their eyes were oddly shaped, too. One woman had dark brown skin, and Vincent tried not to stare. Their clothes were weird, light things, and they didn’t wear cloaks.  How did they stay warm? 

Vincent watched his father serve dinner, and finally, the goat stew.  Grimoire pressed down on the spoon and gave Vincent some extra broth, then put Vincent's bowl in front of him with a soft smile.  He father was so kind to remember! After Grimoire served himself and sat down he lifted his hand. “Please, enjoy.”

Vincent gripped his spoon and Sophia put a hand on his, and he adjusted his grip and she smiled at him.  

“I hope you’re enjoying the autumn weather, friends,” she said to their guests.  

Vincent had forgotten their names, though.

“Weather cold, nice best,” the woman said, and Vincent wondered how she didn’t know her tenses.  “You I am called Vincent?” 

He blinked a bit, suddenly startled by his name.  “I am called Vincent,” he confirmed. 

At his mother’s earlier request he didn’t make fun of her grammar.  Lord and Lady ShinRa, were those their names? They were looking for something and Vincent didn’t really care what.  He wanted to play with Carpin and Lumo, not eat dinner with adults.

“Polite son is yours,” she said, and the adults started their adult conversations.  

Vincent had sat through several adult dinner conversations, so he was practically an adult himself.  He quietly ate his stew and bread, and resisted the urge to splash his beet mash in and stir it all up like father did when no one was watching.  At one point Grimoire had slipped an extra chunk of cheese onto his plate, and Vincent quietly stirred it into his stew, sticking his tongue out as he tried to get it to melt right.  He took careful sips of his tea, and wiped up the last of his broth with his bread like a good boy. He was a good child.

After dinner they had gone for a walk, his hand firmly gripped by his mother so he wouldn’t bolt up the nearest tree again.  Sophia and Grimoire pointed out landmarks, and Vincent finally had to pull away. He ran over to a railing and looked over the edge, watching the boats on the canal.  They were quite far away and he imagined flying down the meet them, gliding on the wind like a tern or kite. Grimoire easily plucked him up and put him on his shoulders.  They eventually went home and Vincent got to read before bed.

 

The visitors were still there the next morning.  After Sophia gave him a good scrubbing, they had breakfast and went to his parent’s research building.  Vincent played quietly, reading his book of monsters and playing with his soldiers. Finally he decided he wanted an apple, and climbed to the second floor.  The talks of energy and mako and rivers did not impress him, for he was a grown up five year old, after all.

He tilted the window open, humming as he slipped out and onto the wall.  He walked, arms out, along the tall, narrow wall, loving the cool breeze.  Heights were one of the few things that did not make him nervous. One side of the wall was only a dozen or so feet to the workshop garden below.  The other side was quite steeper, leading to another tier of the hilly city. 

He finally reached the apple tree.  Most of the apples had fallen, but he could see one large golden one, just out of reach.  He hopped for it, and suddenly he heard his mother’s voic.e

“VINCENT!”  She was at the window, now, and he hoped he wasn’t in too much trouble.  It wasn’t the first time she had told him not to go on the ledge, but this was the first time he had been caught.

”I’m OK!”  He finally gripped the apple and it came off in his hands, and he grinned at it.  “It’s OK, Mama, I got it!” he cheered and took a big bite. 

Golden apples were his favorite, and this one was just ripe enough.  As he took another bite Grimoire climbed out the window.

“Vincent, Vincent, sit down, please!”  

Now he was in trouble.  Vincent bit his apple and held it in his mouth as he sat on the narrow wall.  It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was easier to sit than stand in the wind. 

“I’m coming, gem, stay still!”  Grimoire edged sideways, Sophia watching nervously, and Vincent realized there was a crowd.  He waved as he ate, but he was getting nervous, and decided to come back to the window.

“I’m coming,” he said as he stood up.

His father paused on the wall.  “Vincent, Vincent, please, stay still!”  

Vincent stood up, took two steps, and suddenly, he wasn’t on the wall any more.  

Vincent only had a vague idea of his father diving after him, gripping the vines and branches and banners until Grimoire reached him, his grey cloak billowing behind him.  He landed, rolled, stumbled, and rushed over to his son. 

“Vincent, Vincent, my little ruby!” he cried as he crawled and jogged over.

“My apple,” Vincent hissed, and struggled to move.

“No, no, stay still, stay still!”  Grimoire held his hands over Vincent, and gently touched his chest and neck.

Vincent lifted his hand, noting it was wet.  His pants and shirt were wet, and his sniffed at the blood on his hand. Several people rushed in, Sophia pushing her way to the front.  He spotted the wall, wet where a sconce had torn his skin on the way down. 

“Papa?  Mama?”

“My baby, my ruby jewel,” Sophia hissed as she resisted the urge to cradle him.

“Let me help,” one of the visitors said as he held out a glowing gem.  There was a blinding emerald light and he heard his name called. 

 

Vincent!  Vincent! “VINCENT!”  

Breath came back into his body, and Vincent groaned as he looked up.  

« Father, I’ve missed you, » he muttered at the face before it came into focus.  “Cid?”

“We gotta move, Vince!”  Cid hauled Vincent up and they ran, fleeing a snake head.  “You OK? That blast knocked your boots off!” 

Vincent was suddenly aware he was barefoot, and his hose had a large hole on the left foot. He did not remember that materia being that strong!

Either Cid’s arms were surprisingly strong as they wrapped around Vincent or the bolt had taken more out of him than he realized.  

“It was an uncalculated bolt, I apologize.”  Vincent stumbled, tingling, and had a brief reminisce of the experience last night.  He blushed as he took cover.

“Can you do that again?  You knocked a head clean off!”

“I’ll need a few minutes before I can do it again,” Vincent said, blushing again.  

How many times in the Turks barracks and showers had he heard that?  Why had he never taken up any offers? There was this nice girl who wielded a spear, and Vincent tried to clear his head.  No, don’t think about that. There was also an older Turk who offered to take him under his wings, with tanned skin and blue eyes and chest hair and Vincent had to concentrate on the Hydra right now.  He felt a firm on his shoulder and jumped at the touch. 

“You OK?”

“I’m fine,” he lied.  “We cannot kill the central head, we must chain it with something and destroy its eye.”

Cid reached into his bag and pulled out a stick of dynamite.  “Can we bring the ceiling down on it?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Highwind!” Vincent snapped.  “We are in a city under another city, both of which are lit with natural gas!”

Cid pondered, tapping his temple with the explosive.  

“Put that away, you idiot!”

“Hey, it’s nice to see you showing some emotion, you know?  It suits you.” Cid reached over and kissed the tip of Vincent’s nose, and Vincent briefly saw sparks.  Before he could protest, Cid continued. “What’s below here?”

“The old sewers.  They’re closed off from everything, though, it would, it would be trapped in, wait, distract it.  Yuffie, follow me, we need to get to the overflow!”


	12. FFVII Sidequest - 12 - Back Into Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster is discovered and the day is saved.

Vincent and Yuffie darted down the street, Vincent counting in his head.  “Old Court, Jewelry Shop, here, here, open this gate!” 

They could hear the beast roar, or was it Cid?  

“Open the next street on the right and wait for the Hydra to be in the center square,” Vincent ordered.  “On the back of the main head is an eye we have to kill.”

“Understood!” Yuffie said as she took off.  

Vincent ran back towards Cid, but he could feel his strength ebbing.  His transformation and the bolt from his mother’s materia had weakened him, and he hoped he could make it to Cid in time.

Cid was launching himself from the side of a building, shirt torn and cigarette dangling from his lips.  He brought his spear down before him, and he stabbed through the neck of one of the remaining heads. 

“Cid, this way!”  Vincent aimed Red Impact and fired twice, biting into the hydra’s chest and getting its attention.  

One of the eyes exploded in a red mist and the hydra folded in on itself in pain.  It picked itself up and took off after them, shrieking in its rage. 

Vincent wondered what the people on the main streets could hear, and if the streets could rattle like the ceiling did.

He and Cid ran, Cid hauling on Vincent’s arm, and they reached the intersection Yuffie was standing in.  

She waved at them, and Vincent ran his fingers over Red Impact.  Yuffie yelped and darted off, and Vincent skidded to a halt, long enough to fire a single shot in the center of the floor.  The old tile cracked and nearly shattered.

“There, place it there!” he shouted to Cid, and turned.  He exhaled and fired a second shot, and the hydra’s pace faltered as its ankle twisted under it.  

Its round body rolled for a few moments, and it braced itself with its tail and gave a huffing sound.  Where its arms would be, possibly, shook, and two more heads peeled themselves from the body. They waved, moist and shining, and Yuffie made a gross noise.  

Cid slid into place, shoved the dynamite into the hole, and held his cigarette over it.  

Vincent positioned himself in front of the hydra and fired, and Cid lit the dynamite.  He and Vincent ran, and Cid scooped the protesting brunet up over his shoulder and kept running.

They dodged behind a corner and covered their ears, and there was a great shaking and crumbling of stone.  The could hear nothing but the ringing in their ears for several moments, and they could feel the ground shaking.

Yuffie peeked out and waved, shouting unheard words, and Cid and Vincent looked out.  

The hydra was struggling in the hole the dynamite had made, scraping and scrabbling against the widening pit.  Water started to seep into the streets from below, and Vincent worried for the city above. 

He took Cid’s shoulder, pointed to the hydra, and pointed to the back of his own head.  Cid nodded, hopefully understanding, and they broke cover. 

Vincent aimed and fired, hitting the beast on the chin, and reloaded.  He walked slowly in a circle, firing and reloading, as Cid got into position. His head pounded, his body shook, and his ears rang, but he continued, and he knew the others felt the same.  He circled closer, noting Yuffie had taken to pestering the beast with rocks flung into the corners of its eyes and down its gullet. Vincent couldn’t hear the roar, but he could feel it.

He felt the kick of Red Impact, the gravel under his bootless feet, the left of which was burned, and he could feel the stiffness in his back.  His left hand ached under his gauntlet, doubtless burned by Sophia’s lightning materia. His eyes felt like they were full of sand as he reloaded the last of his bullets.

He didn’t hear Cid’s descent from on high, but he felt it when Cid’s spear jammed itself into the hydra’s eye, slamming the head onto the ground and raising dust.  

The creature started to dissolve, constrict, and twist in on itself, vanishing into a shimmering materia.  Cid wrapped it in his cloak and the three stared at each other silently.

They found a spot not far from there and sat down, Cid in the middle, and breathed.  Eventually Yuffie held up her armlet with the Cure materia, letting the soothing green light wash over them.  Their heads cleared and slowly their hearing returned, and they sat in the dim, stagnant city, exhausted.

“So that happened,” Cid finally stated.  He reached for his cigarettes and Vincent took his lighter from him.  “I saw people smoking, it ain’t illegal!”

“There may be gas.  There were several explosions, remember?”  

Cid muttered in agreement and Vincent handed the lighter back.  Cid shoved it in the cigarette box under his goggle strap and held up the materia.  He rotated it in the dim, and Vincent took it. 

« What were you doing down here? How did you get here?  » he muttered softly.

“Quit calling Cid a goat and let’s go!” Yuffie said as she stood up.  

Vincent tucked the materia into his bag as she tugged on Cid’s elbow.  

“I need fresh air!” she lamented.

Cid and Vincent got to their feet, and Vincent started walking to the back of the creature’s lair.  

“We can’t see in the dark, Vinnie!” Yuffie whined as she followed gingerly through the bones and broken stones.  

Vincent paused and turned around, and Yuffie made a soft noise.  She had been startled by his eyes shining.

“Just, just hold still!”  She crashed into him and gripped his right elbow tight.  “My electric torch is gone!”

“Mine, too, we’ll just have to trust your eyes, Vince.”  Cid gripped his other elbow and Vincent jumped. “What’s wrong?”

“My hand.”  He gingerly removed the glove and examined the damage from the materia.  His hand was burned, but salvageable. “The cure materia has helped. We move forward, now, there’s a gate.”  Vincent led them, steering with words or posture, to his boots. After pulling them back on he lead around the dips and pits until they reached a wall.  “Excuse me.” 

He bent his knees slightly and pushed off, drifting up to the top to unlatch the gate.  He floated down, head pounding, and felt around the floor. 

Cid finally got the idea and easily found the latch, and lifted the sliding door.

A flimsy wood sliding door was all that kept the hydra in place?  As their eyes adjusted to the low light as they walked up a ramp, sunlight and a fresh breeze finally washing over their feet.  

Yuffie ran forward and came to a door, and she eagerly unlocked it with her picks to fling it open.  “Fresh air!” she cheered and took long breaths. “Oh, what’s the smell?”

“Goats,” Vincent said as he followed her into the light.  Several men had come running, and Vincent stood up as straight as he could.  « We need to speak with Maer Gérard. »

« What is the meaning of this? » a stable hand demanded.

Cid scratched his chin.  “I don’t think they know who you are, Vince.”

« I am Vincent Valentine Mar.  You will bring the Maer Gérard here. »  

Cid and Yuffie didn’t understand the conversation, but they were picking up on words and tone.  

« We have finished our task and demand to see the maer. »

« Who are you?  You’re not in charge, » the stable hand said and Vincent flicked open his cloak and pulled out Hydra.  « Materia? » Vincent stood still, holding it out, and several of the stable hands ran.

“Are they getting the guard or the maer?” Cid asked skeptically.  “I don’t think I’ve got it in me to take on a troop.”

“It will be fine,” Vincent said firmly.  

“Why’s everyone afraid of materia?” Yuffie asked.

Vincent was silent for a few moments, and when he spoke it was with careful words.  “When the last one being studied exploded, it killed my mother and seven others.” Vincent let Yuffie wrap her arms around his arm and waist.  

She spoke softly in Fēnyīn, and Vincent knew the words were sad.

“That’s rough, Vince,” Cid said softly.  

They stood quietly, waiting, Cid and Yuffie not quite understanding Vincent’s plan.  

“Are we just standing here?” Cid asked, and Vincent nodded quietly.  “OK, then.”

They didn’t have to wait long before Maer Gérard and a small troop of guards came into the stables.  « What is the meaning of this, Valentine? » he demanded, 

« What do you think it means. »  It was not a question but an accusation.  Vincent tilted the materia.

Maer Gérard leapt backwards.  « Keep that thing away from me! »  

Vincent stepped forward, holding it out.  

« Why did you bring Hydra here? » 

Cid recognised the name.  “Well, ain’t that interesting!” Cid grinned.  “Translate that, would you?”

« My friend proclaims that it is interesting that you know what this is?. »  

“Who’s stable is this?” Cid asked with a sly grin on his face, and Vincent translated the question.  “Is it Gérard’s?” 

The troops and stable hands all looked to each other.

« What is a Hydra? » a guardsman asked, and Vincent pulled out Red Impact.  He swapped the Fire materia for Hydra and concentrated, but the maer stiffened and stepped back.

« No, don’t summon it here!  » 

Everyone stopped and stared at the maer.  

« How do you know what this is? » a guard asked, and Vincent replaced his Fire materia.   « What’s down that passage? »

Cid knocked Vincent with his elbow once his gun clicked in its holster.  “Hey, hey, Vince, ask them how bad things happen when the city tries to change.”

« We have noticed a pattern, » Vincent said in a firm voice.  « Every time change comes to Gali, something horrible happens to stall change? »  

The guards and stable hands muttered to one another, and a pair of guards vanished down the tunnel.

« No, stop!  What about the explosions we heard?  How much damage have you done to the city below? » the maer insisted.

Vincent turned to a guard.  « We are going to the public bath.  We require clothes and supplies. We leave in the morning. »  

The guard saluted, pulling his feet together and holding his palm at his shoulder.  

“Come, I wish to be clean.”

 

\---

 

The guard explained their situation to the bathhouse, and soon they were sitting in the middle of a large room, stripped and scrubbing themselves.  

Cid was still uncomfortable bathing around Yuffie, but the other Galians didn’t mind.  In fact, she was sitting in a group of girls behind a few potted plants, laughing while at pointing and naming objects.

“Damn that girl makes friends fast,” Cid noted as he used some sort of sandy soap to scrub his legs.  “You’ve burned your back, too. That was some lightning bolt!”

Vincent deflected the statement.  “She’s very friendly.” Vincent was examining the bottom of his left foot.  “I do not recall that materia being so powerful.” 

All three were bruised and battered, and Cid eagerly eyed the heated bath not too far away.  

Vincent spotted Cid’s gaze and shook his head.  “Not until we’re clean.” 

Cid scrubbed harder, and Vincent handed him some soap to use on his hair.  It smelled of apples, of Vincent. 

“I’ll scent the waters as you get the soap out of your hair.”

Cid watched Vincent walk over to a shelf to select some herbs and oils, and Cid absently splashed more water over his shoulder.  He didn’t hear Yuffie until she was at his ear.

“Hey, hold still, let me rinse your hair.  I don’t trust you in the soaking pool.” Yuffie made him jump as she started to scrub him.  “It’s so nice to meet people who know how to bathe! The room’s a little dark, but I can’t wait to soak with Bera and the others!”

Yuffie got him clean and dashed back to the girls with a wave, and Cid looked up at Vincent.  

Vincent tilted his head to him.  “Are you coming?” 

Cid realized he had been watching Vincent pour oils and scatter herbs for most of a minute, and the brunet crossed his arms.  “Um, yeah, yeah, coming.” Cid quickly followed, hoping he wasn’t TOO obvious, and slid into the scented waters. It was hot and Cid thought he would melt for a few minutes.

They soaked quietly, Cid with his elbows hanging to the edge and Vincent stretched out under the water, face barely visible through the steam.  Vincent’s hair had been braided loosely and he draped it on the ledge. 

Cid didn’t know how much time passed, but he felt fairly melted and relaxed.  

“You were watching me again,” Vincent noted quietly.

“You’re pretty watchable.”  

An attendant came in and spoke softly to Vincent.  The man left and returned with a few packages, and he put two down near them and a third near the tub Yuffie and her new friends were laughing in.  

“What’s that, new clothes?”  

Vincent nodded and opened his crimson eyes.  

“You gonna be OK?”

“I’m just tired.”  They soaked, and Cid started tapping his hands against his knees and humming.  “Are you ready to go?” As Vincent stood Yuffie bounced over. 

“Hey, Yura and Betta and Bera and Nubrie and I are going to go dancing, get some drinks!”  Her face was bright. Now that she was around her fellow teenaged girls, she was in her element.

“Do you remember the way to to house?”  

Yuffie made a curious noise, not a yes, and not a no.  

« You know where the Valentine Snow house is, correct? » he asked one of the girls as they walked over, draping towels and robes on.

« Yes, Valentine Mar.  We’ll have her back before sunrise, honest!  She’s just so fun! » one of the girls said cheerfully.

“The door will be open, Yuffie.”  

She grinned at Vincent.  

« She would like a hot spiced pear. »  

The girls all nodded deeply, some dipping their knees.

“Have fun,” Cid said with a wave.  “I think we’re heading back.”

“Laters!” Yuffie said as she hopped into her clothes.

“What all are they talking about?” Cid asked as he stretched and popped his back.  He opened his clothes package and started dressing.

“You’re exceptionally hairy, for one.”  

Cid rubbed his chest fuzz.  “Barret’s got a small animal strapped to his chest!”

“He does not.”  Vincent pulled his hose on.  “They think you’re her father.”  

Cid barked a laugh and tugged his undershirt on.  “Yeah, me an’ my brown butt an’ yer her pale mother.  We look nothing alike!” Vincent shrugged. “Do they think you’re her other dad?”

“It crossed their lips, yes.”  

Cid shook his head and pulled his boots on.  “Are you really leaving the door unlocked?”

“I doubt anyone will dry to break in.  Supper should be delivered by now.” Vincent led Cid out of the bath house and into the streets.

 

\---  

 

They ate dinner quietly, Vincent obviously taxed by their adventure, and Cid tried not to explode from boredom.  It had obviously emotionally drained Vincent to put the gun and materia away, the gun in his father’s safe and the materia in a safe in his mother’s study.   As Vincent gathered the dishes Cid found an empty notebook and some old charcoal pencils. 

He flipped through the book, noting it was empty.  “Hey, can I use this? Gotta jot some things in my brain down.”  

Vincent examined the book and nodded, and Cid opened the page.  

Several loose pages fell out and he forced a grin.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.  Everything here is old.  I can sew them back into place for you later.”  Vincent bent down and picked up the pages and looked at the only one with anyone on it.  

It was a rather simple drawing in the hand of a child, and he sat down, hand on his chin.

“What is it?”  Cid leaned over his shoulder and grinned.  It was three people, obviously Vincent and his parents, and it had been lacquered to preserve it.  “Did you draw that?”

“I must have been very young, father still had his beard.”  He had used bit of watercolor to color their scarves and the hems of their clothing, and their eyes were blobs of color.  Vincent handled the picture gingerly, then walked to the desk and rooted through it. He finally found an old document in a frame and swapped the document for the drawing.  “If you will excuse me. You know how to work the lights, yes?”

“Yeah.  Hang on, I’ll follow you up.”  Cid followed Vincent upstairs, the latter dimming lights as he went, and they reached Vincent’s door.  

Vincent paused, then held it open and led Cid inside.  

“How are you?” Cid asked as Vincent breathed heavily.  

Vincent stood and walked to the mirror and pulled the sheet off.  

“Does your foot hurt?  And your back?”

“It won’t for long.  I used to have a scar.  I fell from a wall when I was, oh, five, six years old.  I was torn by a sconce on the way down.” He traced a line from memory from his hip to his waist.  “Hojo took it from me. I was shot, the bullet bit here, and here,” he said as he tapped his shoulder and side.  His voice broke a little as he went through the motions of showing off his arm. “The scars, all of them, even my tattoos, they’re gone.  Hojo took them from me,” Vincent hissed, and suddenly he couldn’t stop the stream of tears. “I died. He killed me. He trapped me in this form.”  He looked down at his hands and flexed his fingers.

 “My body resets each time I change.  Each scar, every blemish, every experience of the skin,” he said as he ran his hand over his face, feeling no pock on his left temple nor notch in his right ear where an earring had been yanked out, “fades.”

“You had ink?” Cid asked, suddenly knowing it was the wrong question the second his mouth opened.  As he was trying to apologize Vincent glared at him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, what, I don’t know what to say.”  Cid looked at his hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t know what I want you to say.”  Vincent sunk down onto his bed.

“You want me to distract you?” Cid asked and tugged on some of Vincent’s hair.

“I don’t know what I want.”  

Cid wrapped his arms around him and held him close, tilting up to kiss his temple.

Vincent leaned into it, and Cid worked his way to his ear and lips.  “I, too much, too much.”

“Then this is good.”  Cid held him close, rocking him tightly, hissing soft things to him.  “You’re gonna be OK, we’ll get back to the others, it’ll be OK.”

The last time Cid had comforted a partner and she didn’t want sex he found it difficult to think about anything else.  Now, however, he felt his own passion fade as his concern grew. Maybe he was finally a grown man, he didn’t know. He just held Vincent and let him sleep.


	13. FFVII Sidequest - 13 - A Friendly Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is back together.

“Hey, goat, how’d it go last night?” Yuffie asked as Vincent vanished into the maer’s office.

“Never you mind, missy!” he snapped back.

“Didn’t get lucky?”  Yuffie’s eyes were full of mischief.

“It’s not always about getting laid!” Cid insisted.  “I mean, yeah, you could just get someone and fuuuuuuuiiiiiinish a game of chess,” he said as he caught himself, remembering Yuffie was still a teen.  “Why are we having this conversation, you ninja gremlin?”

“Because you like Vince’s chess set!”   Yuffie giggled as she poked Cid’s gut. 

They started play fighting at each other, poking and slapping and shoving, eventually laughing at each other.  They stopped once they heard a heavy foot step. “Oh, hey, you!” Yuffie said as Cid was pinching her face.

“We were just, you know,” Cid said as he planted his palm on Yuffie’s face and shoved.  

Yuffie lost her grip on his ears and they both stood up straighter.  “Get everything straightened out?”

“Yes.  The tram to the Gold Saucer is ready for us.”  Vincent walked, but his step was heavier than usual.  “We’re leaving now, as they are ready for us to be gone.”  

Cid and Yuffie were handed bags by the guardsmen, and they accepted their spear and knives with a deep nod and followed Vincent outside.  

Vincent opened his bag and nodded.  “It’s a bit of a ride to the Saucer so we have breakfast with us.”  

Cid was all but bursting with questions.  What had the new maer said? What happened to Gérard?  What happened to the summons materia? He bit his tongue as they worked their way to the station up the hill, and Yuffie paused long enough to accept a small basket of apples, pears, and nuts from her new friends.  

She distracted Vincent by asking how to say goodbye, I’ll never forget you, thank you so much for taking me out last night, and eventually a guard clicked his staff once on the pavement. 

Yuffie kissed cheeks and waved goodbye and the trio entered the tram.  She waved out the window until Vincent tugged on her collar, and Yuffie sat down, strangely quiet.  

“You make friends real easy, kid,” Cid noted as they skimmed the wall for a few meters.

“They were all so nice!” she said sadly.  “I’ll miss them.” 

Cid patted her shoulder kindly before planting his elbow on her shoulder to use as a rest.  

Yuffie protested and they bickered for a bit, then settled down.

“Are you sad to leave?” Cid asked and Vincent sighed softly through his nose.  

They watched the city grow smaller as the tram picked up speed, and Yuffie opened their breakfasts.  “What did the new maer say?”

“Gérard is to stand trial.  It seems he’s quite guilty of several things for several years.  It seems he was taking bribes to let the ShinRa examined the Aven Es.  ShinRa is still interested in Gali, for some odd reason.” Vincent declined a breakfast bread, and Yuffie continued to hold it out.  “Please, not right now.” 

She nodded and handed it to Cid, who chewed it.  

“The house will be kept, today, and tomorrow, and Arcata will stay still.”  

The rode in silence for a while, and Vincent looked up.

“I have been thinking of what you said the other night, Cid.”  It was strange hearing Vincent say his name for some odd reason, and Cid liked how it sounded.  “We must move forward. We cannot await redemption, we must work for it and seek it out.” 

Cid nodded as he swallowed his apple cider.  

“I had hoped to share that message with the new maer, but he was less than enthusiastic about it.”

“I’m glad you’re trying, at least.”  Cid snagged a white apple and bit into it.  “These things are surprisingly sweet and bitter at the same time.”

“They’re wine apples.”  Vincent poked through Cid’s bag and pulled out a small parcel of goat’s cheese.  “Here. Eat it with the bonuche.” 

Cid sliced off a sliver of soft cheese and tried it, then nodded appreciatively.  It was mild and slightly nutty, and the bitterness of the apples faded quickly around the cheese.  

Eventually the mountains faded and the desert surrounding the Gold Saucer took over, and the three watched it grow brighter and large in the sky, a second sun made of decadence and tacky neon lights.

The tram came to a stop in the terminal and the three exited, and Yuffie was suddenly on the ground as something tackled her.  

“I found you!” Cait Sith said as he clung to her neck.

“Cait!”  Yuffie snapped to her feet and snuggled him back.  “Oh, I missed you, you horrible little thing!” She held him up, grinning.

“I missed you, too, sneaky fingers!”  

“We had the most horrifying adventure!” she chirped and gave him a toss. 

Cait Sith laughed, and Vincent was a little creeped out.  “Let’s talk about it on the tram down. Everyone’s waiting in Corel, we didn’t leave you!”

“Didn’t?” Cid asked, “or couldn’t?”  

Cait Sith gave a guilty mew and Yuffie melted a little.  

“Can’t get the Bronco started, huh?”

“Nope!” the little cat answered chipperly.  

A tram pulled in and Cait Sith pointed.  

“This is the proper, correct, and right tram to Corel.”  

They got on the tram and sighed as it noisily took them to the ruins of Corel.

 

\---

 

Aerith, of course, was thrilled to see them all.  “How are you?” she asked Vincent as she peered into his crimson eyes.  “We were so worried! You were so tired in the morning, and the other night, we were worried!”

“Hell, he was with me,” Cid bragged as he bought two packages of crappy cigarettes.  

The old woman who sold them to him had a door propped up on a broken chair and a shattered minecart.

“Like I said, we were worried!” Aerith repeated.

“OK, you, listen up,” Cid snapped, but Aerith simply laughed brightly and tugged Cid down by his shoulder to peck a kiss on his cheek.  He sighed at her and they rejoined the others. “Hey, Vince, you OK?”

Vincent’s voice was tired and quiet.  “I’m fine.” 

When Vincent pulled his cowl up, Cid scowled at him.  He was going to have to carry him all the way to the Tiny Bronco, wasn’t he?  

“Ya can’t see the ground like that!” he scolded.  “Here, use my goggles. Can’t have you tripping up and busting yer nose like a drunk.”

“I will do no such thing.”  Vincent continued to walk, and ignored Cid trying to put the goggles on his head.

Aerith watched as they bickered for a bit, and she grabbed Yuffie by the sleeve.  “Hey, did something happen?” she asked quietly, and Yuffie started giggling madly.  “About time!”

“Yeah,” Tifa added.  “Ever since they met, Cid’s been lusting after him!”  The ladies nodded at each other. “Hey, Cid, can you come look at Aerith’s staff for a bit?”

“Here, Spikes, don’t let Vince fall off a cliff.”  Cid shoved Vincent towards Cloud and the two sighed at each other.  Cid stomped over to Tifa and the others. “Ladies!”

“Let’s stand in the shade, it’s hot, OK?” Yuffie said and dragged Cid around the corner.  

They stood blocking the way, arms crossed and glaring at him.

“Here’s the deal, Highwind!” Tifa snapped as she planted a foot on the rubble.  “You treat him nice.”

“You treat him good,” Yuffie added and twirled her Galian knives.

“You treat him right!” Aerith added.  She thumped her staff on the ground for emphasis.  “We’re talking about Vincent, just so you know.”

“Kinda sorta figured.  You narking little nark.”  Cig pulled his cigarette from his mouth and gestured with it.  “You know, ladies, that you’re not really threatening? You’re all too cute and I’ve seen some of you naked.”  

Tifa responded by grappling Cid and rolling him to the ground.  She held his arm behind his back and took his head by his hair. 

“OK, now I’m threatened.”  ‘And a little turned on,’ he added mentally.

“We like Vince,” Yuffie noted as she crouched down by Cid.  “So don’t make him sad.”

“Er,” Cid added.  “Sad-er.” 

Tifa twisted her fingers a little and Cid groaned.  

“OK, OK,  I get it, I’ll be good to him!”

“Are you?” Tifa asked and suddenly let go.

“He is.”  Aerith prodded him with her staff.  “Gross.”

“Hey,” Cid snapped.  “Hey. You started it.”

“Ladies and goat,” Nanaki called to them, “we’re leaving!”  

The four joined up with the others to start the long trek back to the ocean.  

“We got supplies,” Nanaki added.  “We’re moving out!”

“What happened to you guys?” Barret asked as he shouldered Tifa’s cooking set.  “We came back up the tram but we couldn’t find ya.”

“We were hijacked by an evil scientist who wanted Vincent!” Yuffie gushed.  “But it was OK, he turned into a werewolf and threw them off a cliff! Then we went to Gali, to Arcata, and fought a monster in the city below the city!”

“Oh-Kay,” Nanaki said, not quite believing her.

“It’s true!” she insisted.  “These clothes are Galian! And look at these knives!  And Vincent’s gun!”

“I put Red Impact back,” he said quietly as Cid tried to take his bag of supplies from him.  “I can manage.”

“OK, but I’m watching you, you pale thing.”  Cid pulled his bag over his shoulder. “Why did you put it back?”

“Red Impact was my father’s gun.  Besides, the bullets are difficult to find outside of Arcata.  I will find something to use here, I suppose.” Vincent’s long legs easily let him pull away.  “And it wasn’t a werewolf. It was a lygoru.” 

Cid bumped Vincent's shoulder with his spear.  

Vincent paused and exhaled through his nose.  “It is a type of werewolf, I suppose.”

“You’re a what now?” Cloud asked flatly.

“Don’t worry, it’s only when someone hurts us!” Yuffie chirped.  “He also had a REALLY powerful materia! It was a lightning, but it blew his boots right off when he used it!”  She jogged and caught up as he sighed. “Hey, are you mad?” she asked, and he paused and looked down at her. “At us?  For telling them about your werewolf form?”

“It, it is just, strange.  I need time.” He continued to walk, lost in thought.  

As they were leaving town, they paused at a stand selling weapons, and Vincent picked up a battered riffle.  After examining it for a few minutes, he decided to buy it, dropping a few Galian coins on the table. When the man refused, Vincent dropped two more, and he relented.

Barret waited for Vincent to walk with him.  “I always wanted to go to Gali, see their natural gas lines.  Corel used to trade with Gali a lot, I remember my Nan had some Gali dishes.  The were this bone color, and really deep! They had crimson swirls all over them, and yellow butterflies.  She used them until some apple-headed punk dropped the big one. By then Gali was closed off, and she couldn’t get her china no more.”

“The pattern would be called Young Lovers,” Vincent said quietly.  “Their love creates the yellow butterflies, which tie the lovers together with red strings, bringing them together.”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” Aerith said.

Vincent continued.  “The threads bind, but also constrict.  Sometimes it is hard to get away, you’re tied together.  But when you get lost, you’re tied together.” 

Aerith grinned brightly at him.

“That is too cute,” Barret said.  “Nan would have loved to know what.  Hey, I used to know some Gali growing up.”

“AEspira,” Yuffied corrected.  “Gali is the country.”

“I know that!” Barret snorted.  “We used a lot of terms and names when setting up the venting system.  We called the giant pipe Tor Nuse.”

“That means ‘left pipe,’” Vincent said quietly.  “The right pipe is Tor Lip, correct?”

“Yeah!” Barret grinned.  “There’s also Mel Iron, the main gauge!”  

Vincent didn’t correct his pronunciation.  “Main wheel. Wheel is not quite the right word, but neither is gauge.  It more means,” Vincent said in thought, “squeezer. It squeezes the pipe.”

Barret prodded him with a finger.  “OK, smarty pants, what did we call the water tower?”

Vincent thought for a minute.  “Either Osha Dor or Cup Cupita.”

Barret gave a sheepish grin.  “We called it Lil' Cupita Cup.”

“Little cup cup?  Cup already means cup.”

“Really?” Cid asked.  “Cup means cup?”

“Corel and Gali traded for a while, I’m certain words were traded, too,” Barret said with a shrug.

“Most likely it is AEspira.  Gali does not like to change things.”  Vincent waited for Barret to catch up. “If the time comes, I will guide you there.”

“Oh, you’ll love Arcata, it was actually really pretty!” Yuffie gushed.  “The entire place is lit with these golden lights, and it makes the wood and the stucco glow!  The food was really rich and warm, and while it was really cold there, the cloaks kept us really warm!”  She hopped up and swung from a branch and landed, still speaking giddily. “And I met a bunch of new friends, we taught each other dirty songs!”

“How do you know they were dirty?” Tifa asked.

“Vincent was blushing,” Yuffie laughed.  “And there are hand gestures!” 

Vincent sighed softly and kept walking.  

Yuffie giggle.  “I’ll show you guys later,” she promised.

 

\---

 

They had been walking for quite some time before Cid reached over and snagged Vincent’s bag from him.  He muttered as he slung it over his own shoulder and kept walking. 

Barret and Nanaki exchanged glances, and Tifa lightly smacked Barret’s arm with the back of her hand, nodded, and kept walking.  They had a few hours of sun as they reached the coast, and Cid took a look at the Tiny Bronco.

“Aw, shit, that ain’t right.”  He dropped Vincent from his back and gestured at the Bronco.  Vincent hadn’t needed a ride, but Cid had insisted anyways, and Cloud and Barret took their bags.  

Beachplugs had climbed all over the plane and were chewing on the canvas wings.  “Vince, can you do something about this?” Vincent nodded and pulled out his rifle, examined it, and loaded it.  He shot several times, and each shot knocked one of the creatures down. Cid and Cloud waded into the shallows to finish the job, and Cid sighed at the damage.

“Can we still use it?” Cloud asked as he tugged on a strut.  Everything felt loose and unsafe.

“Yeah, we can.”  Cid shook his head at the industrial orange peeking through the chipping paint.  “My poor baby, don’t worry, girl, we’ll get you fixed up.” Cid patted the plane affectionately and climbed up.  “I gotta tend the engines. Salt water and avionics don’t usually mix all that damn well.”

“We can move out in the morning, I suppose,” Cloud said.  “Need any help?”

Cid nodded at him.  “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a minute.”  

“I need to clean my arm,” Barret muttered, and Vincent nodded.  

He pulled out a gun cleaning kit, and Barret shook his head.  

“Naw, man, I got one.”

Vincent nodded and pulled out his rifle.  He started to examine it closer, trying to see what needed repaired.  It had bucked and misfired while he was cleaning out the beachplugs, but he was confident he could fix it.  After a few minutes he disassembled it and made several minor repairs. 

“Can I shoot it?” Yuffie asked as Vincent out the gun back together.  

It was easy to make the minor repairs, and he realized he underapid for the weapon.  “No.”

“Oh, come on, just one shot?” she begged, hands in front of her.

“No.”  Vincent continued to paint grease on on the trigger and said nothing else.

“I’ll buy your next bullet!” she offered, and Vincent didn’t even look at her as he put the brush away.

“No.”

“I’ll buy two bullets,” she started, and Vincent interrupted her with another ‘no’.  “Why not?”

“Do you know a single thing about guns?” he asked and she shook her head.  “No.”

“How do I learn if you don’t teach me?”

He was now reassembling the weapon.  “It’s better that way.” Everything clicked and slid into place and he stared down the barrel.  “The only thing you need to know is not to mess with them. Do not pick one up unless your aim is to kill something.  Always treat it like it is loaded.” Vincent wondered, suddenly, if he sounded like his father. Would he ever have that soft, commanding voice?

His face became suddenly panicked when Yuffe popped right in front of the sights.  

“C’mon,” she started, and Vincent stood and shoved his weapon down.

“DO NOT,” he snarled suddenly and everyone looked up, “place yourself in front of a GUN.”

“Ya damn fool!” Barret snapped at her.  “Don’t do that to a man!” He looked up from his own work.  He was still getting sand and grit from his weapon. “Get your ass out of here!”  He muttered about stupid kids as he flipped open a panel and watched the grit roll out.  “Damn it all.” 

Vincent took a seat next to him and held out the cleaning kit.  

Barret relented and decided to let him help.  “Thanks, man, I just can’t get everything out of it today.”

“May I?” Vincent asked and Barret held his arm out.  Vincent quickly tilted his arm this way and that, made a few mental notes, and easily disassembled the weapon.

“Damn, Vince, you’re good at that!”

“My uncle Plag liked to craft firearms in his spare time.  I was a candidate for an apprenticeship.” Vincent quickly had Barret’s gun arm spread before him and he assembled a cleaning rod.  “When he married my aunt, father was thrilled. They were friends before, you see. Father was always taking his handguns to him for adjustments.”  

While Vincent cleaned the weapons parts, Barret cleaned his socket.  

He gave a happy grunt as he finally reached a pocket of grit between his flesh and the implant.  “Damn, I haven’t had this cleaned proper in most of a month, now!” The paintbrush Vincent loaned him instead of a cotton swab made the work much easier.  “Gonna have to get me some of these.”

“I’ll assist you when needed.”  Vincent started to paint grease on the moving parts.

“I appreciate that, man.”  Vincent nodded and slid a few pieces together.  “Tifa usually helps, but, well, she doesn’t get guns.  No offence, Tiff, but here’s a man who knows what he’s doing!” 

“No, I get it.  It’s like when I ask you to press.”  Sometimes while stretching Tifa would have someone press on parts of her body.  Barret normally helped, but he didn’t understand pressure points like Yuffie did.

Barret adjusted his arm and Vincent started to rotate the prosthetic back in place.  “I got it from here, man, it’s a little finicky.” Everything slid together and Barret nodded.  “Or it was! Shit man, feels good for a change!” Barret held his hand out and Vincent shook it.  "Good to have you back, Vinnie, even if you did bring a punk ass ninja opossum who needs to get her sticky fingers out of my candy supply."

Vincent had a pained look.  “Please, please do not call me Vinnie.”

“Got it, Vince.”  Barret slid the last panel into place and checked his ammunition.  

Vincent nodded at him and collected the cleaning kit.


	14. FFVII Sidequest - 14 - Into the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group needs food, so they go hunting. It's all Yuffie's fault.

“We should go to Wutai!” Yuffie exclaimed and leaned into the cockpit.  “It’s not far, we can get supplies there!” 

Cid shoved her face out of his.  

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!  And delicious! I’m hungry for real food.”

“Get yer ass outta here, ya punk ass ninja.  I gotta navigate.” Cid was struggling with the controls.  The Tiny Bronco was a masterpiece, designed for land and water landings, but was not designed to be solely on the water.  Cid was grateful he had declined the use of computers as he worked on setting up a travel plan.

There were computers that did the job of navigation better, but Cid prefered the hands on way of pen and paper.  “OK, Gongaga, there, where’s that little island,” he muttered as he tapped his pen. It didn’t help that Yuffie was sitting above him, blocking the light.  “Ya mind?” Cid asked and prodded her calf. 

She gave a soft noise of surprise and jumped up, then lost her balance.  She slid, bottom first, into the cockpit and Cid got a face full of ninja butt.  

“Yuffie, your ass!  It doesn’t belong on my face!”  He tried to shove without touching her inappropriately.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” she said in embarrassment and struggled to get a grip on anything.  She got her foot inside and connected with Cid’s groin, and while they struggled Yuffie kneed the controls.

“What are you doing?” Nanaki said as the Bronco started to spin.  He was helping Cloud lash down some supplies, holding the rope taut in his jaw.

“Get!  Off!” Cid snarled and got both hands on Yuffie’s bottom and pushed.  

The teen gave a shriek as she was launched out, and her foot hit the controls.  

The Tiny Bronco surged to life, but only half to it.  They spun in a vicious circle, splashing everyone on the shore.

Nanaki and a few supplies snapped out as Cloud was lashing them down, and finally Cid got control.  

“Ya god damned punk ass ninja gremlin!” he bellowed at her.  Cid saw Cloud and Nanaki clinging to the wing, and he pulled both of them up.  “Quit endangerin’ everyone! I oughta tie you to port and haul you!”

“I’m sorry,” Yuffie said nervously.

Cloud tried to talk, but nothing came out at first.  “You’re sorry.” 

Everyone stood there, staring at her.

“It’s because you’re a sneaky little gremlin,” Cid muttered.  “OK, let’s take stock of what supplies we have left.” He started to pull their supplies from the water around the Bronco.

“Why do you keep taking charge?” Barret snapped.  “We agreed Cloud was in charge.”

Cid looked down, startled, boxes in hand.  “Sorry, used to have a unit, used to being in charge.”

“A unit?” Tifa asked, and Cid nodded.  “You were military?”

Cid nodded again and his voice became a quiet grumble.  “Pilot. Second dragoon regiment.” He nodded, clearly not happy with the memory, and gave a half-hearted dragoon salute.

“Were you in Wutai?” Yuffie asked carefully, and Cid shook his head.

“Naw, I was, I was elsewhere.”  He started hauling boxes to shore.

“Were you,” Cloud asked and Cid turned sharply to him.

“No.”  

Cloud backed off and Barret dragged another box to shore.  They let it go.

“OK,” Tifa said eventually as they took stock, “looks like the food is a loss.”  She turned and looked at Yuffie, then the food. “Nothing was wrapped in waterproof materials!”

“Well, they don’t got none,” Barret said softly.  Most of the hard bread was fairly soaked, and Barret considered walking back to buy more.  “Hey, if we got some more, we’d have food, they'd have money, we could help everyone out,” he pointed out.

“We don’t have money,” Cloud said as he checked his funds.

“What about Vincent?” Yuffie asked.  “He’s like royalty!”

“You’re royalty?” Tifa asked.

“I am not royalty.”  He sighed. “I come from a very rich and influential family.  But we cannot return.” He shook his head. “Arcata is in flux, and would be a bad idea right now.  Nothing good ever happens in Gali when there is change.”

“Besides, I doubt their money’s good outside of Gali, right now,” Barret offered.  “Corel might take it, but I can’t see anyone else.”

“Besides, there’s the tram,” Cloud said in thought.  “We’ll just save what we have and do some fishing right now.  Beachplug tentacles are edible, right?”

 

\---

 

Beachplug tentacles were edible, but not very good by themselves, and Tifa’s cooking skills could only do so much.  Still, it was food and that was really what mattered. They pulled the Bronco ashore, Cid fiddled with her engines, and they camped out.

In the morning they caught some fish and another beachplug and made their way into the ocean.  The Tiny Bronco was about the worst boat they could imagine, and crossing the shallowest part of the sea was a miserable experience.  Still, they made landfall in the middle of the night, hauled themselves to the shore, and made camp.

“OK, enough food for dinner, then some breakfast, then we’re back to hunter gathering,” Cloud said as he passed out the rations.  “I’m going to try and get some fishing done or something.”

“I got a few ideas about that!” Cid grinned and walked to the treeline.  He selected a few slender branches and returned with them. He dug some twine from the Tiny Bronco and laced everything together, then grabbed the last of Nanaki’s discarded bread and walked to a spot on shore.  “Damn it, I got no light. I need a light! Spikes, get your face near the water!”

Cloud pulled back.  “What, no? Why do you need night?”  He tried to keep his mako-lit eyes narrowed so as not to tempt Cid.

Cid hefted his spear.  “Fishin’.” He gestured to the water.  “Light attracts fish, they aim for the bread, I spear’em.  Barring that I think clams would do. But I got no light to see.  Dropped it in Gali.”

“Let’s just clam in the morning, OK?” Tifa asked.  “We’ll deal with it then. Right now, I just need to stretch my legs!”  

In the end they stretched, walked about, made camp, and fell to sleep.

 

\---

 

That night Cid rolled over and grabbed Vincent as he was dreaming.  “Ocean’s smooth, the deepest green, the clouds hang high on horizons,” he spoke-sang softly, never having much of a voice.  “The golden sands are all aglow, the clouds can touch the horizons.” 

Cloud listened to them softly, as Vincent made a distressed noise.  

“You’re OK, you damn fool, I gotcha.”

Cloud remembered the first time Barret had a nightmare like that, and Tifa had pet him until he went back to sleep.  He remembered a few nights later being awakened when Tifa was petting his arm, and he remembered the shame he felt upon realizing he had nightmares, too.  No wonder Vincent didn’t like to sleep much.

“Hey, Tifa?” Cloud asked softly and heard her hum.  “Have I had dreams like that in a while?”

She scratched at her scar as she rolled over.  “No, get some sleep,” she muttered back and Cloud tried to do so.  He heard Cid talk quietly to Vincent and their voices trail off, then managed to get some sleep himself.

 

\---

 

Waking up was hard, and facing the bland, still moist hard tac didn’t help.  After a good walk Cid couldn’t find any clams, and the fish had moved on, so he decided to move inland.  Barret and Vincent decided to follow, Vincent with his rifle and Barret since he was bored.

“Now, it’s been a while since I went hunting, but I didn’t think I was this poor at it.”  Cid was checking for tracks and noises, but a half hour in had found none.

“I don’t think much lives here.”  Vincent pressed the claws of his gauntlet into the soil around the base of a tree.  “There must be a larger predator here.”

“Yeah, it’s rare for coastlines to be so damn empty.”  Cid kicked a log, and a few bugs scurried out. “There’s birds, at least.”  He was itching for a smoke, but only had two left. “But no ground animals.”

Barret didn’t know much about hunting, but he was enjoying the walk, at least.  “Should we head back?” he asked quietly, and Cid shook his head.

“Let’s go a bit further.”  They followed the narrow path before them.  “Something made this deer trail,” Cid reasoned, “so there’s gotta be something here, right?”  

After another five or ten minutes, though, they decided to call it quits.  

They paused so Cid could smoke and they could get the rocks out of their shoes, and once Barret got his boot zipped up they turned to go back.

“Hey, you guys hear something?” Cid asked as he ground his cigarette out and tucked it with the others in the cuff of his pants.  He was getting a collection, and he dug a hole with the butt of his spear to bury them. 

Vincent ignored him and Barret didn’t see since he was investigating the sound.

“I do hear something.”  Barret closed his eyes and listened.  “Hang on, hang on, I think I smell water!”  He could smell the damp green scent and he took a few steps off the trail.  “Hey, look down there, some water!” 

“Good, we can drink.”  Cid fingered the Heal materia on his armlet, wishing he had bothered to take care of it.  It was small, but it might be able to purify water if need be. The trio walked down the hill, and Vincent paused.  “What’s up, Vince?”

“Movement.”  He quickly lay down near the scrub for cover and gestured down the hill.

Cid and Barret flattened themselves as the bushes by the water shook, and a handful of frogs hopped from the greenery to the water.  Barret made an odd sound that made both Cid and Vincent looked at him sideways.

“Aw, they’re so cute!” Barret gushed.  “They’re so round and happy.” 

The frogs were hopping in circles, ribbiting.

“I never figured you for a cute guy,” Cid said.  He didn’t think much of frogs, but meat was meat and he was getting hungry.  “Gotta be at least twenty of them, think that’ll be enough?”

“Look, a man can like cute little animals and still be a man, a’ight?” Barret scoffed.  He turned and looked at Vincent. 

The brunet had slung his rifle forward and was setting up the scope.  “They’re of good size, perhaps twelve will do.” Vincent braced himself and took aim, and Barret shook his head at him.

“Aw, man, no, not the little froggies!  Look, they’re dancing!” Barret suddenly stood up and lobbed a rock at the frogs.  “Go on, little guys, Barret’s gotcha covered! Run!”

The frogs paused, then looked up at Barret.  

“What the hell’s going on over there?” Cid asked, and Vincent clicked the safety and slung his rifle back on his back.  

The frogs examined them, and sat silently.

“Go on, shoo!” Barret urged, shaking his hand and gun at them.  “Be free, be safe, we won’t eat you any!”

A large frog in the front suddenly let out a strangely terrifying cry.  The other frogs picked it up and the three men pulled back as their jaws jutted from their mouths.  The frogs rushed the hill and the men pulled back, startled.

“Still think they’re cute?” Cid snapped as one of them impaled itself on his spear, mouth full of sharp teeth still snapping at him.  They were exceptionally fast!

“Anything that wants to eat you is OK by my books!”  Barret pulled one from his leg and tossed it aside. “Aw, shit, look.”  His calf was bleeding badly, and more frogs hopped from the lake and bushes.  “I don’t even feel it!”

“Not how I imagined going,” Cid admitted as he cracked another frog with his spear.  “Retreat?”

“Hell yeah!  Vince?” Barret urged, but Vincent had stepped forward.  

He raised his arms and brought them down, and a wave of ice erupted from him.  It flash-froze the nearest frogs, almost twenty in number, and the cold made the ones hopping up the hill pause.  Vincent stepped forward and swept his arm, and a whip of fire lashed out. It was several inches above their heads, but the frogs took the message and launched themselves back into the water and the bushes.

Vincent passed his hand over Barret’s leg, the green glow of his materia closing the wound.  “I think this will suffice,” Vincent said with a nod, and he pulled his combat knife from his boot and stood behind the first frog.  He pressed down on the ice with his clawed gauntlet, shattered it, gripped the frog and neatly slit its throat. “Here, hang this to bleed out.”  

Cid gingerly took the frog and held it by its legs, light brown face a little lighter than usual.

It didn’t take long to use the twine in Cid’s jacket to tie the frogs to his spear, and they brought their haul back to camp.  Tifa had set up the camping stove and Aerith and Cloud were cleaning and slicing what looked to be red carrots, small white potatoes, and some sort of bean.

“Frogs?” Yuffie asked skeptically.  

“They’re edible,” Aerith said with a nod.  “I had a boyfriend who said they were a delicacy!  Oh, Barret, your leg!” 

“It’s fine, Vince took care of it.”

Nanaki took a sniff and wandered off.  “I’ll find my own dinner, those smell off.”

“They’re just frogs!” Barret called after him.  “Cute little things, weren’t they?” 

Tifa knew of his fondness for cute animals and patted his shoulder.  

“Vicious, too, check the teeth!”  Barret made chomping noises as he worked the frog’s jaw.

“I’m not eating that,” Yuffie said flatly.  “And those are fādòu just so you know.” 

Tifa had been soaking the beans all day, and now that Cid and the others had their brace of frogs, she was ready to start the stew.  

“Beer beans. Those are beer beans,” Yuffie pointed out when Tifa didn't understand.

“Sounds good!” Tifa cheered, grateful to get something more that mashed carrots and potatoes in her gut.  “Let’s get cooking!”


	15. FFVII Sidequest - 15 - Frog Soup and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated M for mature. Everyone talks about their first time, and Vincent has another nightmare. They learn the hard way just how powerful a mage he can be.

Aerith prodded her soup.  “You know, frogs remind me of my first kiss, sometimes,”

“Poor kid, your first kiss being a thing like that, “ Barret said as they laughed.  He took a sniff of his soup and started to eat.

“It was JUST my first kiss,” Aerith said.  “It was awful.” 

The others laughed and Aerith shoved her hair back.  

“I wanted it to be sweet and soft.  But it wasn’t.” She took a long drink of water.  “I wanted it to be, you know, like in the movies. We’d have dinner, go dancing, he’d look deep in my eyes,” she said and lifted one hand.

“And you’d both fall in the punch bowl like ‘Love in Junon.’”  Barret took a long drink of broth, enjoying how it made his lips tingle.  “Man, young love.”

“Glad that’s over,” Cid muttered into his beans.  

“OK, then, what was your first kiss like?” Aerith asked him.  “If you remember!”

Cid pointed at her as he finished chewing a frog chunk.  “Sloppy and not as much fun as my first fuuuuuuinger I’m gonna stop talking.”  Cid shoved beans in his mouth. “You guys?”

Barret laughed.  “Damn, I’m surprised I ever got any, anyways.  I thought I was so smooooooth!” Barret said with a sliding hand gesture.

“How smooth were you?” Cloud asked.

“‘Bout as smooth as Cid’s chin.  Thought I was Tifa’s ass, though.”  

Tifa made a squeaking noise and slapped his arms a few times.  

Barret laughed and hauled her inside a one armed hug.  “I had this pickup line, right?” He suddenly turned to Cloud.  “Hey, babe, I think I got the black lung. Wanna investigate it for me?”  He then opened his mouth and aimed for Cloud, and the blond pulled back in fear, scrambling off of his seat and holding his spoon out defensively.  Barret laughed as he let Tifa go. “There it is, that’s the look I kept getting! I’m surprised that ever got me laid!”

“Wait, that WORKED?” Cid asked and Barret stabbed a finger at him.

“At least twice.  You ever get a cheesy line to work?”

“A few times, maybe, maybe!” Cid insisted.  “I got moves! I got laid!”

“Prove it,” Tifa said.  “Or, at least, tell us.”

“Guy or girl?  I do both.” 

The others, save Vincent, made naughty noises.  

“What, I thought you guys knew.  Remember me mooning over Vincent on the tram?”  

Vincent quietly sipped his broth.  He had eaten the vegetables and one piece of meat Tifa had given him just to appease her, and she backed off.

“Just because you think someone’s pretty doesn’t mean you want to bang them,” Tifa shot back.  “Look at Aerith, she’s very pretty. She looks like a little fairy sometimes, and she’s so cheerful!”

“Oh, thanks, Tiff!  You’re pretty, too!” Aerith squeaked happily.  “I love how you can bench press Cloud, you’re so strong!  But I don’t wanna have sex with you.”

“That’s fair.  See? We appreciate each other without feeling that way.”  Tifa and Aerith nodded at each other.

“Do you think I’m pretty, Cid?” Aerith asked.

“OK, this is getting weird.”  Cid took a long drink of soup.  “But, yeah, you’re all very nice, charming, wonderful people.  Except you, cat.”

“Cait,” he corrected automatically.

Barret laughed as he finished another another mouth of soup, taking a deep whiff of carrot.  “Am I pretty?”

“Pretty macho.  But you ain’t my type.  I like em,” Cid said as he made a few random hand gestures.

“Well, that leaves me out,” Tifa said and they laughed.  “Cloud’s in, though.”

“No, I’m not,” he insisted and slurped his meat.  “I’m not his type. He said so.”

“Too bony!” Cid insisted.  He pointed a finger at the rest of them, save Vincent, who quietly continued to drink his broth.  “Too young, y’all are too young!”

“I’m older than you, ya damned fool!” Barret protested.

“First off, if you’re going to call me names, Mr. Wallace, it’s ‘goat’.  And second, that means you’re too old for me,” Cid said and took a long drink of soup.  “Ya cradle snatcher.” 

Barret rubbed Cid’s head with laughter and Cid pulled away.

“Is it, you know,” Aerith asked, “weird?  Liking, you know, both?”

Cid chewed on a root vegetable and shrugged.  “I dunno. I just, ya know, like both guys and girls.  The hardest part, I guess, was getting a first time. So you know.  Or think you know. And knowing if a guy’s into you back. It’s all very confusing when you’re a kid, ya know?”

They could all agree on that.  “So what was your first time like?” Tifa asked.

“Guy or girl?”

“Ladies first,” Tifa said as she held up a finger.

“I was shit at it.  I'm surprised she talked to me the next day.”

They all laughed.  

“How about guys?” Cloud asked.  He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d been curious himself.

“I was shit at it.  I'm surprised he called me the next day.”  

They continued to laugh.  

“I’ll have you know I am a very sexy beast!” he insisted.  “I like’em all, so I get twice the play you boring ass vanilla virgins do.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!  You don’t know us that well!” Aerith insisted.

“Yeah, little miss pure?”  Cid gestured at her with his spoon.  “Yer what, twelve?”

“I’m twenty two!” she insisted with a laugh.  “And I’m not so pure!”

“Oh, yeah?”  Tifa’s tone was light, but disbelieving.  

Aerith held up her fingers and wiggled them.  

“OK, that’s fine.  Man, my first time?  Hated it. Didn’t get what the fuss was about.  Took me a few weeks to try again.” She took a drink of soup.  “With Mary Holheim. Then I got it. Hey, Cloud, how’d you do?”

“Staying out of the conversation.”  He chewed on a piece of frog. “Lots of stuff happens in the barracks, I lost track.  Life is weird, there. Can’t remember none. Nope. And not gonna try.” He swallowed and gave a shudder.  “Damn, the puppets just made everything weird.”

“I was once mistaken for a hand puppet,” Cait Sith said with a sage nod.  “It was traumatizing for everyone involved.” 

Tifa pat his head and laughed, and Barret reached over.

He knocked on Cait Sith’s head a few times.  “Hey, Shaoiste, you in there? Lemme talk to Shaoiste.”  He twisted Cait Sith’s crown like a radio dial, trying to get to the voice behind Cait Sith, and Cait Sith batted his hand away.  “We know you’re in there, Shaoiste! Cloud told us everything!”

Cait Sith’s eyes flickered and his ears twitched, and after a few static bursts his voice changed.  “What, Great Alexander, it’s three in the morning. What is it? What’s wrong?”

“You wanna be friends with us, right?” Barret asked in a sweet voice.  “Since we’re important to your plan?”

“What’s this about, Wallace?”  Shaoiste’s voice was tired, and very weird coming from Cait Sith.  “You sound drunk.”

“What was your first time like?  Your first  _ sexy  _ time?” Barret asked in a sassy, syrupy voice while the others tried not to laugh.  He put special emphasis on ‘sexy.’ “We was all just talking and being friends and decided to bring you into the conversation.”

“No.”

“What,” Cloud asked, “did you try to build a robot girlfriend or something?”  

There was a sudden click and Cait Sith’s voice returned to normal.  “He’s turned off the conversation!” the little robot cat chimed out.

Everyone suddenly let out a riotous laugh.  

“Sweet Freya he totally tried to build a robot girlfriend!” Tifa insisted.  She rubbed her belly as she laughed, and Barret nudged her arm. She shoved him away and quit scratching at her scar.

“Hey, Vincent hasn’t said anything for a while,” Aerith noticed.  “Vincent, how about you?”

“Yeah, Vincent,” Tifa urged.  “You must have at least held hands or something.”  

Cid eyed Vincent, and Vincent nodded deeply.

“Are you guys really eating that?” Yuffie asked as she prodded the soup.

“We’re having adult conversations, ya ninja gremlin,” Cid said as he gestured with his spoon.  “No kids allowed.”

Tifa prodded Vincent with her toe, and he sighed softly through his nose.  She continued, realizing that staring at him sometimes moved the conversation along.  

“I have known another.”  He sipped his broth.

The others stared, and Tifa poked his shin with her toe.  “C’mon, we all shared. You share!”

“It was,” Vincent said carefully, “nice enough.”

“Nice enough?” Cid asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Hey, guys?” Yuffie asked, and Cid hushed her.

“I was in a place that required comfort, and comfort was given.”  Vincent took a sip. “It was warm, a little strange, but in the end, after it all, it was nice.”  Vincent gave a nod and took a longer drink.

“Little strange?” Cid asked.  “What was so strange about it?”

“Why are Midlanders so hairy?” Vincent asked suddenly, face reddening.  “I had never seen so much hair, and in all places, before going to Midgar!  Hair on the arms, hair under the arms, I’ve seen hair on the legs, the chests and backs and even feet!  The showers could be terrifying!” 

Cid suddenly realised that he hadn’t seen any hair on Vincent’s limbs at all, and only minimal hair down below.  He tugged on his arm hair, wondering what Vincent thought of it.

“See?” Cloud suddenly exclaimed, trying not to splatter soup.  “See? Barracks are weird!”

“But you had a good time, right?” Barret asked and Vincent finally nodded.  “Wait, so you mean, of all of us, you’re the one with the good first time?” Barret asked, and Cid silently thanked him.

“To be honest I didn’t know it was happening until it started.  Then,” he started to say, but his face reddened. “It was nice.”

“Guys!” Yuffie said again, and Cid hushed her again.

“Well, if you ever don’t want to, say no,” Cid scolded.

“I did, and was listened to.”  Vincent finished his broth and hiccuped.  “He listened.” Vincent’s voice was quiet, but not scared.  “It was nice.”

Yuffie stepped in neared the fire.  “Guys, the beans. They ferment. You’re a little drunk.”

“Do not,” Aerith said firmly, “belittle my accomplishments.  I’m a lot drunk.” She took a long drink of soup and Tifa giggled.

“Oh, man, we’re gonna feel this in the morning.”  Tifa poured more broth into Vincent’s bowl. “We should probably stop eating this.”  

They all continued, though.

“Hey, Vince?” Cid asked.  “If asked again, would you again?”  

Vincent said something in AEspira.  

“Is that a yes?”

“If it’s nice.”  He took a long drink.  “Juic mihi magra arto es.”

Barret clicked his tongue at Vincent.  “Don’t call cid a goat.”

“The soup is horrible,” Vincent repeated then hiccuped.

“Yeah, not my best work!” Tifa said with a laugh.  “More broth?” 

Vincent held his bowl out and Tifa poured the rest of the broth into it.  

She held up a slice of meat and Vincent when declined, she dropped it into Barret’s bowl.  “There’s some breast left, and some onions. Out of legs, though.”

“Onions,” Cid asked and she ladled a few into his remaining broth.

“Are you,” Nanaki asked suddenly, “really eating the frogs?”

Cid slurped some up.  “Delicious, nutritious, tastes just like chicken.”

“Guys!” Yuffie exclaimed loudly, “that’s part of the problem!  Fermenting beans and drunken frogs! You have to soak the frogs in salt water about three days before you eat them or you get drunk!  You’re all drunk!” She spoke quickly in  Fēnyīn, exasperated and tired.

“Frogs?” Cloud asked as he poked his last cube of meat.  “No wonder Vincent can’t stop jumping.” 

Vincent had hiccupped again.

“Naw, he does that when he’s drunk,” Cid explained.  

“Voi noli inbrit!”  Vincent hissed. “I don’t!”

“You get drunk,” Cid said with a nod.  He drained his bowl and gave a healthy sigh of pleasure.  “That’s good frog and bean soup.”

“I’m calling it Frean Soup,” Tifa explained and fished out a carrot.  “Freanible soup.”

“So, you’ve seen Vince naked and drunk how many times now, Captain?” Barret asked and Cid laughed when Vincent hiccuped again.

Cid laughed at Vincent’s reddening face.  “Oh, I’m going to have such a hangover tomorrow.  I think we should get some water and turn in. Hey, gremlin, can you take care of the fire?”

“Why should I be the responsible one?” she demanded.

“You’re the one who lost the rations, remember?” Barret said as he stood.  “I’ll get the water. We got any aspirin?” 

The group slowly dissolved and left Yuffie with the dishes.

 

\---

 

“Satis,” Vincent hissed and Tifa shook herself awake.  Vincent’s voice was full of pain, and she walked over to him, still slightly crouched over.  “Plac, satis plac!” He had camped away from the others, claiming they were too noisy, and was wrapped in his cloak, rifle set beside him.

She knelt by him and touched his shoulder.  “Hey, you’re OK,” she said softly and reached for his hand.  How often has she had to soothe Barret? Last night she had to comfort Cloud, petting his shoulder until he rolled over.  Tifa used a corner of his scarf to dab at the sweat on his face. “Vincent, it’s OK.” She had learned the hard way not to wake people with nightmares up, but she could talk to them until they fell back to a deeper sleep.

She pulled back when both of Vincent’s hands shot into the air, flame dancing from his fingertips.  “Guys, problem!” she shouted as Vincent’s eyes opened halfway, their red glow flickering in the camplight.  

Cid took Vincent’s left wrist as Tifa took his right, and they struggled to get his armband with the materia off the panting man.  

Aerith crawled over and put his head in her lap, unsure what to do.

“Voi elem!”  

Cid let go as Vincent’s hand erupted in flame.  

Aerith kept chanting a soft melody trying to calm the terrors.  

“Plac plac plac,” he whimpered.

“Odin,” Cloud swore as Tifa finally got the right band unlatched.  “He’s sleep casting!” 

Barret gripped the armlet and pulled, sliding it off his wrist.  

Vincent gave a sound and curled up on himself, panting and shimmering from a shield spell.  

“And using ours, too,” Tifa snapped in surprise.  “Sweet Frigya he’s a strong caster!” Tifa and Cloud quickly shed their materia, and Barret lobbed it to Tifa’s sleeping bag.  

Barret quickly got Cid’s armlet off of him and tossed it on the pile.

“Hands off, ninja girl!” he snapped as Yuffie woke up.

Yuffie hauled the sleeping bag away as some of the materia flickered.  Vincent might have been one of the most powerful spell casters any of them had seen.  

“He’s got some on his gun!” Yuffie called out.

“Gun, gun!” Cloud pointed at Vincent’s rifle, and Barret placed it gently on Tifa’s pillow.

“Hey, hey, you’re OK,” Tifa soothed, but Vincent could only gasp and repeat ‘satis plac’ as he rocked.  “You’re OK.” 

Aerith pet his face gently while Nanaki and Cait Sith watched from a distance.

Cid gripped Vincent close, and Aerith helped him sit up.  “Hey, hey, you’re gonna be OK, Vince. You got this, you got this.”  Cid stroked his face and continued to speak softly to him.

Tifa helped move Vincent into Cid’s lap and Cloud helped Cid sit back, bracing Cid so he could move his legs.  

“Remember what I said about constellations?  Hey, look up, OK, Vince? Can you see it?” Cid tilted Vincent’s head to the sky.  

Vincent’s face was slack, his eyes wide.  

“You can see the Dragon, that’s the long one right there, see?  It’s eye is really three small stars so close together they look like one.  Hey, c’mon, Vince, what’s that constellation in Gali? Yuffie’s people call it Leviathan.”

Vincent gathered his breathing and Tifa pet his hair.  

“We call it the Great River in Nibelheim.”  Tifa took his hand and held it gently.

Vincent babbled quickly in AEspira, breathing harshly and slowly waking up.  

“You have such a lovely language.  It makes me glad I learned Nebel.” She spoke to him in Nebel for a few moments, pointing to the stars.

“Aven Es,” he said quietly.  “We call it Aven Es. Deep River.”  

Cid swaddled Vincent in his wool cloak, the edges damp from his sweat, and Vincent struggled.  

“Please, no, please, don’t.”  Vincent ripped his arms free and struggled to sit up, gripping his left wrist.  “The straps,” he hissed quietly. “Not the straps, please.” He looked around and his breathing steadied, and Tifa took his hand.  He took a long gasp like a drowning man and his eyes focused

“Are you awake now?” Cloud asked, and Vincent tugged on his hair with his free hand.  “You were having a nightmare.”

Vincent struggled to stand and Cid helped him.  “I, excuse me, I’m sorry” he hissed and dragged his cloak around him.  “I’m so very sorry.”

“I’m gonna get him a little walk,” Cid said as Vincent stumbled.  

Cloud ended up putting himself under Vincent’s other armpit as they walked him around.   “Want to take him along the river?” Cloud asked. “Open skies.”

Cid nodded after a moment.  “Good call, kid. C’mon, Vince, let’s get you walking.”

They made their way to the edge of the quiet river, and Vincent stalled to look up.  “You know so much about the stars.”

“Well, yeah, I always wanted to go to space.  Remember Rocket Town? Built a giant rocket?” 

Vincent’s eyes were dim, and Cid stroked his own chin in thought.

“Cloud, look over here.”  

Cloud turned his head and Cid’s eyes lit up.  “Close’em, Cloud!”

“What?”  

Cid covered Cloud’s eyes and looked into Vincent’s.  When Cloud pulled back and his eyes could be seen again, Vincent’s eyes reflected the light.

“Your damn eyes ain’t just glowing, they’re reflectin’!” Cid crowed triumphantly.  “I thought that was the case!” Cid looked from Cloud to Vincent’s face, both slightly confused.  “It means he’s got a tapetum lucidum.” 

Vincent blinked as if trying to feel for something in his eyes.  

“Can you see in perfect darkness, Vince?”

“Yes?”  Vincent was confused about the conversation.  “But only after,” he paused, “everything.” Vincent looked into Cid’s baby blue eyes.  They were such a pale color for a man with brown skin. “What?”

“I just had a thought, you know.”  

They stood at the river for a while.  

“About how your eyes glow.”  Cid rubbed the back of his head.  “They’re beautiful.”

Vincent turned his crimson cheesk and eyes to peered at Cid.  “You watch me too much.” 

They stayed there for a few more minutes, and Cid carefully led him back to camp.  They sat down, and Vincent hauled his cloak around himself. 

Barret sat down by him.  “Um, hey, look, Vincent, we kinda got to talking and took a vote,” he said gently, “and we don’t think it’s a good idea for you to sleep in your materia no more.”

“That is understandable,” he said in a quiet, defeated voice.

“And punk ass ninja princess won’t hold it.  Cid will,” Barret said with a nod.

“Wait, why me?” he asked, and Tifa picked up Cid’s hand and dropped it so it slapped against Vincent’s shoulder.  “OK, I suppose I do touch him a lot more than you guys do.” 

Vincent’s breathing slowed.  

“For a man who doesn’t need to sleep you sure do sleep a lot.”

“I don’t sleep,” he muttered, and Cid lay him down and curled up next to him.

“No, you don’t,” Barret agreed sadly.


	16. FFVII Sidequest - 16 - Vincent Valentine Cannot Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid and Vincent talk some more, and Cid finds out that, no, Vincent cannot fly.

“You’re going to melt.”  Cid had been making a map, and he flicked some ashes from his last cigarette, trying not to let them smear on his page.  The old sketchbook from Vincent’s house had a variety of paper, from smooth to heavy to lined, and after Vincent had tightened up the stitches a little it was perfectly serviceable.

Vincent ignored him at first, but he looked over and found Cid still staring at him.  “You’re watching me again.” 

Cid squatted down and rocked on the balls of his feet.  

“I’m fine.”  

“Biggest damn lie you ever tell, next to, ‘I’ll remember it later.’”  Cid stood up and made another line on the map. “Vince, you’re a smart man, but really dumb, too.”

Vincent whirled and glared at him.  “I beg your pardon!” 

There, that insulted voice!  That surge of emotion!

Cid laughed a little.  “We’re in the middle of the jungle.  The hot jungle. The humid jungle. And you’re wearing fifty pounds of wool.”  Cig sauntered over and tugged on Vincent’s mantle.

“The cloak is only twenty, the rest, four.  Your estimation is off.” He refused to admit he was uncomfortable in the humidity.  “And I only have my wool.” Vincent had spent his last coins on his rifle rather than clothes, and unlike Cid and Yuffie, he did not trade his away.

“Vincent,” Cid said as he rubbed his temples under his goggles, “take it off.”  

When Vincent glared at him Cid reached over and undid the bottom buckle of Vincent’s shirt.  Vincent snorted at him, more than a huff through the nose this time. 

“Oh, new idea.  You just wear the undershirt.”

“I shall do no such thing!” Vincent protested and shoved Cid’s hand away.  “I will not run naked through the jungle!”

“Hey,” Cid pointed out, “it’s considered a shirt now-a-days.  Think about it, Barret wears less than you and he’s not naked.”  

Vincent pushed his hands away again.

“Tifa!” Yuffie snapped.  “Cid’s trying to strip Vincent!”

“He’s wearing wool in the jungle, it might be a good idea,” she called back from the campstove.  

Yuffie had done a horrible job of putting the dirty dishes away.

“He’s doing it for sexy and nefarious purposes, though!” Yuffie added with a cheeky grin.

“You shut your sass-mouth, missy,” Cid said as he pointed a finger at her.   “Punk ass ninja’s got a bad case of sass-mouth! At least take the undershirt off, or leave the cape.”

“Cloak.”

“What's the difference?”

“A cape is decorative.”  Vincent had crossed his arms and was looming again.  

Cid was not a short man, but Vincent had a way of making people feel small.  “Hey, Tiff, Vince and I are going to scout around a bit.” Cid picked up his Galian spear and something fell from his supplies.  He scooped up the empty package of cigarettes and shoved it under his goggles strap, just for comfort. As he did so he could feel a few cigarettes rattling inside.  Who the hell kept giving him cigarettes? He eyed Vincent, nodded deeply, and started walking.

“Who said I would go with you?” Vincent asked, and Cid shrugged and walked off.  Vincent watched him for a bit, then followed. Why did that man make him feel so conflicted?

 

\---

 

So far, Cid and Vincent had made no advancements in locating the temple.  

Barret had joined them for a most of an hour, but as the deer trails wandered off, so did he.

Cid and Vincent wandered up and down the trails, avoiding the frogs, and finally, Cid thought they lost Barret.  “Hey, Vince?” 

Vincent kept walking.  

“Vincent, can we talk?”

“There is no one here to stop you.”  

Cid jogged and caught up to him, and took Vincent by the hand.  

Vincent stared down at their hands, and curled his fingers softly.  “Yes?”

“I just, you know,” Cid mumbled.  “What are we?”

Vincent started for a few moments.  “Making a map.”

“Vincent.”  

Vincent stopped and looked at Cid.  

“I’d, you know,” he stumbled.

Vincent cut him off.  “You cannot love me, because I cannot love you.”  Vincent went to move, but Cid gripped his mantle. “You must understand.  All my life, I’ve never felt for people. I’ve loved them, yes.” He sighed softly.  “I loved my parents. I loved my friends, but I’ve never felt for them.”

“Felt for them?” Cid asked, suspecting.  “You mean romantically?” 

Vincent’s cheeks reddened a little.  

“Sexually?” Cid continued.

Vincent pulled away and Cid tugged him back.  

“You’ve never had a crush on anyone?”

“No.  I’ve never desired anyone.”  His face turned a more red. “Let me go.  Please.”

“Vincent,” Cid said softly.  “Are you, did you not want that?  That night? When we, you know, knew each other?”  Maybe using Gali terms would make Vincent more talkative.

“Like I said, it was a surprise, but pleasant.  And when you sleep next to me I sleep better.” He could feel Cid adjust his grip on his coak.  “You did not rape me, if that was a concern. I’m not sure how far I expected you to go, is all.”

“Look, damn it, if I ever come on too strong, let me know!  I’ll stop!” Cid promised in a harsh snap.

“You did.  I did. You did.”  

The second night in Arcate flooded Cid’s mind, and Vincent stared him in the eyes.  

“I appreciate the comfort, and the concern.”  Vincent’s eyes flicked away. “And the comfort.  But know I cannot fall in love.”

Cid shrugged.  “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet.”  

Vincent sighed at him.  

“And you’ve had people tell you that your entire life, haven’t you?”

“It’s an asset in the Turks.  Attachments are a hassle.”

Cid suddenly hauled him close, and Vincent froze in his arm.  “Am I a hassle?”

“A constant hassle,” Vincent hissed.  “You watch me, you touch me, you make me,” he started, and stopped.

“I make you what?”

“Doubt myself,” came the delayed answer.  “Make me wonder why I do what I do. Like follow you out here to make maps when I could be hunting something for supper.”  He could feel Cid’s nose near his neck, feel his breathing. “Why do you feel for me?”

“I dunno.  I just, well, I’ll admit, you’re pretty, and I’m kinda shallow.  Then I just watched you move. I listened to your voice. I just, damn, I dunno, I saw how sad you were.”

“And you thought you could fix me?” Vincent hissed icily and Cid let him pull away a few inches.

“No, I thought how strong you were.  Whatever happened to you was bad, and you don’t deserve it.”  

Vincent stiffened in Cid’s arms.  

“And I want you to know that you’re not alone.”  They stood there for some time, and slowly Vincent stopped feeling like a rabbit ready to bolt.  “I want to be with you.”

“You smoke, you swear, and you drink.”

“You mope, you shoot things, and you drink.”

“I do not drink,” Vincent insisted.

Cid kissed Vincent’s neck and felt a soft ripple pass through the brunet.  “You melt when I kiss your neck.”

“That’s just a function of the body, an automatic response,” Vincent insisted half-heartedly.  

Cid pulled back from his neck.  

“It doesn’t mean stop.”  

Cid adjusted his grip on Vincent’s chest and carefully kissed him from his neck to his left ear.  “You must understand, Cid,” and it was strange to hear his name said in that voice of crimson and smoke, “I won’t be fond of you that way.  I run cold, I’m told.”

“Just means you take a long time to defrost,” Cid into his ear with more breathing than necessary.  His hands worked their way into Vincent’s shirt, and two things stopped them. The first was that Cid felt a teardrop pendant, and the second was Barret’s heavy steps.

“Hey, guys, I,” he started, and spotted them.  The two quickly separated, Vincent hastily buckled his shirt.  “I’m interrupting. I’m going, um, way over there, yeah, might take me ten, twenty minutes.”

“That, that will,” Vincent said quickly.   “Miho net essem.”

“What’s that in Midland?” Cid asked and Vincent blushed.  “We weren’t getting it on?”

“We were not misbehaving,” Vincent said quietly.

“That was not misbehavin,” Barret pointed out.  “That was two consenting adults, RIGHT, HIGHWIND?  Having a personal moment that I interrupted.”

“Why does everyone think I’m preying on him!” Cid snapped.

“Because he’s so shy!  Sorry, Vince, but you’re just so shy.  We worry Cid here’s taking’ advantage of you.”  

Vincent had a full blush now and hid himself in his cowl as much as possible.  

“We just, you know, like you.  Don’t let the old goat push you around, K?”

“I would never take advantage of him!” Cid insisted.  

“I assure the both of you,” Vincent said quietly, “nothing happens in this relationship without my consent.”

“Relationship?” Cid asked hopefully.

“Trust me,” Vincent continued in his quiet tone, “I am aware and consenting.  I said no, and he listened.” 

Barret thumped Cid’s shoulder.  “Cool. Imma go check the ravine for a place we can cross.”  Barret waved as he walked off.

After he vanished into the bush Vincent looked over to Cid.  “I’ll check the other side.” He turned to leave, then stopped and faced Cid.  He leaned down and suddenly kissed Cid’s cheek then dashed off. 

“Heh.”  Cid rubbed his cheek, grinning, and followed.  After a few minutes he could  see Vincent’s cloak dangling in a tree.  “And up!” Cid grinned as he leapt into the tree.  He landed next to Vincent, who had adjusted his posture.  “See anything?”

Vincent gestured down the path.  “There’s yet another ravine.” There was a sudden crack and Cid looked down.

“Thaaaaat’s not good!” he mused as the branch cracked.  Cid managed to land on his feet and looked up. Vincent was hoovering where the branch once was, looking down at him.  “You liar! You can fly!”

“I have said it before, and I despise repeating myself.”

“You’re flying right now, damn it!”

“I.  Cannot.  Fly.” Vincent slid forward, tilted at an odd angle, head close to Cid’s face but his feet high above.  “Flying requires wings. I levitate.” With that he pulled his legs to his chest and took off.

“Semantics, you lying white-faced cracker!” Cid snapped in surprise.

“Hey, no, bad!” Barret snapped from down the hill.  “You don’t get to call people cracker!”

“Vincent can fly!” Cid called back.

“That lying white-faced cracker,” Barret muttered.  “OK, Imma shoot him down.”

“Don’t shoot him down, we need him.  Oi, Vince!” Cid called up. “How high can you fly?”

Vincent drifted down towards them.  “I can’t fly,” he started to say and Cid cut him off.  Vincent had a tone of smugness or mischief about him.

“How high?  Can you see the landscape?”

“High enough, and yes.”  

Cid handed over the map and pointed to the sky, and Vincent took it and lifted off.

Barret felt a chill despite the heat.  “Weird.”

“He said earlier the longer he’s awake the more he can do,” Cid said off handedly.  “He’s better after eating, too. I guess he’s slow to wake up.” 

After a few minutes Vincent came down and handed the notebook over.  Cid flipped through it and closed it. “All right, listen here, asshole,” he scolded, and Vincent walked off.

“That’s what I could see.”  Vincent’s voice held a tint of mischief. 

Barret took the notebook and laughed deeply.  Vincent had drawn a few lines for ravines, a squiggle for the river, and the rest was trees.  Barret flipped through the book and gave a whistle. Cid snatched the book back and continued to mutter.

“You really do watch him too much,” Barret laughed.  

There were a few sketches of Vincent, one of him on the shore twisting water from his hair, another of him aiming his rifle, and a third of his bare back, hair pulled aside as he brushed it.  “Pretty good, though. I can’t draw a straight line to save my life.”

“Don’t tease him about it, OK?  He’s very private.” It took Cid a few moments to pick which word to use.  “At least we got a better idea of where we are.”

“Yeah, middle of nowhere,” Barret scoffed.  The two caught up to Vincent and kept walking.  “How long you able to do that, Vince? The not flying thing?”

“A while, now.  I grow stronger the longer I am awake.”  He slowed down and Cid stood in front of him.  “Don’t coddle me.”

“I ain’t coddling ya.”  Cid pulled Vincent’s arms over his shoulders and hauled the brunet onto his back.  “I’m makin’ sure you get back to camp not dead, ya stubborn ass. Yer exhausted.”

“I am not tired,” Vincent muttered into Cid’s neck.

Barret chuckled as they started to bicker.  

“We gonna have this discussion again?” Cid barked.  “Ya ain’t well, sometimes. Ya get tired. Yer not used ta doin’ things.  Stubborn ass.”

“Yer stub’barn,” Vincent snapped, mimicking Cid’s gold Palm accent.

“I beg yer teapot?” Cid snapped and turned to face Vincent, almost walking in a circle.

“Your accent shows when you get worried,” Barret said with a snicker.  “Teapot.”

Cid whipped his head around to glare at Barret.  “Hush your sass-mouth, mister man!” he snapped, and turned back to look at Vincent.  

Vincent, of course, moved his head to the right side of Cid’s, then back again to the left.  

“I’m just worried is all!  ‘Bout all you yahoos. We got no food, no funds, Vince here needs rest and food and he damn near collapses from exhaustion after every fight,” Cid snapped.

“Not EVERY fight,” Barret pointed out.

“We’re in bad shape and we need to reassess the situation.”  Cid shook his head. “We ate booze frogs last night, fer Alexander’s sake.”

Barret nodded at Cid.  “Yeah, I agree. I’m sure they’ve got something for lunch, let’s just head back.”  Cid nodded and started walking. At least they had a map to find their way.


	17. FFVII Sidequest - 17 - Freedoms and Arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cait Sith proves to be more than he appears, and Vincent gets upset at Cid's meddling.

They sat there, poking at their roasted fish, chewing on their carrots. “So,” Yuffie said as she worked a bone from her fish, “there’s a legend in Wutai.”  She wished they had some butter.  “There’s a shrine in the forest people would travel to to listen to the voice of the earth spirits.  I know it’s not much, but it was said to be locked to all but a nomadic people, and it was their only structure.  It wasn’t built, but given to them by the earth spirits.  I don’t know the legend well, but there are records of it in the Great Pagoda.”

Aerith sat in thought, mulling over her potato.  “Well, it sounds similar.”  She chewed, thinking about it.  “We don’t have any other leads, and the planet, I can’t hear where it’s telling me to go.  I’m not, I’m not strong enough.”  Tifa and Cloud clapped her shoulders.  “By the time I learn, it might be too late.”

“So,” Cloud said, “Wutai?”  The others agreed in tired tones.  Yuffie clapped happily.  

“Well, I suppose Vince got to go home, you get to go home, too,” Barret noted, and they didn’t mention that he had, too.  

Cid nodded and stabbed his fish.  “I’ll work on a flightplan.  It’ll be a long trip, kids, but I think we can make it in two goes.  We’ll bounce off Gongaga and move along the coast.”

“That won’t work,” Yuffie said.  “Between Westbank and Wutai is the Dragon’s Teeth, we’ll have to go the way we came, back up the river.”

“Beats seawater again,” Cloud said.  “Can we manage?”

Cid pondered, and they could see his finger twitching as he wrote on a mental map.  “Yeah, we’ll have to make a few stops.  There’s a place south of Junon, and then there’s that port south of Costa del Sol, Port Nice.”

“Isn’t that place pretty expensive?” Aerith asked.

“Don’t worry, I got you all covered!” Yuffie said with a grin.

 

\---

 

“How are we doing?” Cloud asked Cid as he exited the cockpit.  

“Gonna be honest, she aint’ gonna last much longer.”  He accepted Cloud’s hand and stood up.  “Fuel’s almost gone, the left strut needs more than basic welding, and the low pressure shaft can’t handle much more.”  He sighed and pat the hull fondly.  “We’ll get to Port Nice, but after that, we may need to get something else.”

“Sorry we dragged you into all this,” Cloud said meekly.  “And murdered your plane.”

“Ah, ain’t nothing.  Needed to get out of the house anyways.  Spent too much time on 26 as it was.”  He waded to the other engine and undid the latch, then swore several times.  “I’m gonna need time and supplies to get this mess fixed, Spikes.”  Cid shook his head and carefully shut the panel.  “From Junon.”

“You want us to go back to Junon?” Cloud asked.

“Look, it’s one of our only chances.  We get there, we get supplies, hell, even a small plane, I can fix her.”  He opened the panel again and pointed.  “She wasn’t designed for eternal salt water, kid.  We’ll camp south of Junon, near Bunt.  We’ll sneak up, steal something, bring it down, and use it, or use it for parts.  We ain’t going anywhere without it.”

“Um, excuse me,” a tiny voice chimed in.  Cait Sith peeked out from the cockpit.  “I’d like to help.”  Cid and Cloud exchanged glances.  “Oh, Shaoiste doesn’t know I’m doing this.”  The little thing climbed up and sat on the edge of the cockpit.  “I’m not ENTIRELY under his control at all times.  I’m have a lot of freedom.  Like right now, I’ve turned off my communicator.”

“We can’t trust you, cat,” Cloud said bluntly.

“Cait,” he corrected.  “I know you can’t, but listen.  All my existence, I’ve been watched, monitored, but now, so far away, I can hide.  Think for myself.”  He leaned forward.  “And I kinda like it.”  He adjusted his posture some.

“What are you,” Cloud asked, “exactly?”

“Hard to say.”  Cait Sith’s tail wrapped around to his waist.  “I’m a creature of science, brought to life with magic.  Thing is, Shaoiste doesn’t know just how much.”  His eyes opened, showing a shimmering golden glow.  “It’s a weird thing, computer programing.  If you want something to work, you tighten it down, give it parameters.  Focus it.  But then, it’s not very flexible.”  He reached to his crown and pulled off a materia the size of a marble.  “But he needed something fluid, something that could make ideas and change plans.  So my programming is loose and flexible.  It’s full of holes I had to repair myself.”

He made a motion of blowing on the materia, and the green mist hoovered to a scratch on Cid’s arm.  The wound healed, and Cid looked at Cloud.  “Machines can’t use materia.  Only living things,” Cloud mused.

Cait Sith put the materia back.  “I like Aerith.  I like Yuffie.  Not too fond of you,” Cait Sith said as he pointed at Cid, who scoffed, “but I like you guys.”  He tilted his head.  “I know you can’t trust me, but you can disable my communicator.  It will keep Shaoiste out, at least.”

“What do you think?” Cid asked, and Cloud nodded.

“I actually believe him.”  Cloud shrugged and reached out and scritched Cait Sith’s ears.  The little robot made a delightful sound and pawed at his hand.

“And how do we know he’s telling the truth?” Cid asked suspiciously.  “What, exactly, is your game, cat?”

Cait Sith opened his golden eyes again.  “I hate be told what to do, what to think, and when I’m in charge of myself.  I want freedom.”

“OK, I’m in,” Cid said after a minute.  “How do we disable the communicator?”  Cait Sith took of his cape and turned around, and a little hatch opened.

Inside was a lightning materia to power him, circuits and servos and runes Cid did not recognise.  “We have to disable the runes in a specific order.  I think Vincent might be able to help read them.  He is his father’s son, after all.”  Cid snapped the panel shut, put Cait Sith on his shoulder and waded to shore.

“Oi, Vince, need you!”  Vincent had been paring potatoes, and he looked up.  “Need you to read something!”  Vincent tilted his head in curiosity and walked over after putting his materials down.  “What’s the cat’s insides read?”

“I’m no haruspex, but I’m not unfamiliar with the process.”  Cait Sith visibly bristled at the strange word.

Cid didn’t know what a haruspex was.  “No, no, inside him.”

“Let me get my knife.”  As Vincent bent down to get his boot knife Cid hauled him back up by his armpit.  He turned Cait Sith around and the panel popped open again.  “Ah, I see.”  Cid held Cait Sith up as Vincent examined the runes.  “What made you think I can read these?”

“You are your father’s son?” Cait Sith said hopefully.  “If you can tell me what they read, I can tell you the combination to turn off the communicator and control features.”  Vincent nodded and gestured them over to the makeshift table.

He reached into his hip bag and pulled out a small book wrapped in waterproof leather.  Vincent gently touched the cover like Cid did his plane, and opened it.  “What’s that?” Cloud asked.

“One of my father’s journals.  I felt I should have something of my family with me.”  His hand briefly touched his chest and Cid shook his head.

“Why did you bring that materia?  It almost killed you!”  

Vincent lifted his eyes and returned to the book.  “One subject at a time, please.”  Vincent carefully flipped through the book, searching, and finally came to a page.  “Here it is.”  He then read several sentences in AEspira, and held one finger to the book and another to Cait Sith’s back, pointing at different runes.

“That doesn’t help much, laddie, I don’t speak AEspira.”

“It’s ancient, Cetra.  I don’t speak Cetra, but maybe it will make sense in Midland.”  Vincent taped the symbols again.  “Fire speaks with a fast tongue.  Earth speaks like a slow rumble.  Water speaks in the mysteries that you should have learned from the wind.”  Once more he pressed the symbols are he read them.

Aerith came over and peered at the book.  “That is so familiar,” she mused, and Vincent tilted it so she could see it better.  “Fire speaks quickly, the earth speaks slow, the water speaks in riddles that the wind already knows.”

“I don’t think that helps,” Cloud muttered.

“But it does, it does!” Cait Sith exclaimed.  “Now, deactivate them in this order.  Water, learned, tongue, slow, mysteries.  Just use a soldering iron or something to fry them.”

“Won’t that hurt you?” Cloud asked.

“Eh, a little, but it’s worth it!”  He was surprisingly chipper about the entire upcoming ordeal.

“I’ll get the soldering iron,” Cid offered.

Cid was on his way back from the plane when Cait Sith’s head perked up.  “Uh-oh, he’s figured something’s up!”  He made a soft mewing sound and tapped his feet.  “The panel alerted him it was open.”  He continued to meow, and Cid handed Vincent the soldering iron.

“Why me?” Vincent asked as he examined it.  Soldering irons had changed little since he slept, at least.

“You know what the symbols are!” Cid insisted.

“What’s going on?” Shaoiste's voice suddenly chimed from Cait Sith’s mouth.  “What symbols?”

“Water,” Vincent said as he taped the tool to the symbol.

Nothing happened, and Cid took the tool  “It’s not hot enough, give it a moment!”

“What have you done, Cait?” Shaoiste's voice asked angrily.  “What are you up to?”

“OK, it’s ready.  Go.”

Vincent quickly tapped against the symbols.  “Water, learned,” he said and the could hear Shaoiste protesting.

“No, no, you’re not shutting me down again!” Cait Sith insisted.  The armature holding the materia in place rotated and disengaged.

“Tongue, slow, mysteries.”  Cait Sith gave a hideous noise and shook, and he powered down.  “Ahi, ahi, gabon!  Voi thro, gabon, voi thro!” Vincent hissed sadly.  Cid took the little form and examined it.

“The power’s disengaged.”  He tried to twist it, but it remained firmly locked.  He rotated the materia, and it popped out in his hand.  

“Hey, give me that Cure, would you?” Aerith asked and tapped on Vincent’s shoulder.  Vincent pulled it from his armlet and handed it over as Aerith took Cait Sith from Cid.  She pressed the materia in place and held it, and activated the materia.  Cait Sith flickered and started to move again.

“Good morning!” he said in a confused tone.  “What happened?”

Aerith gave him a bounce and hugged him.  “I just swapped your batteries, silly!” she chirped, and Cait Sith hugged her neck.

“How did you know that would work, kid?” Cid asked.

“Something inside Cait Sith told me it would.  What did you tell him in AEspira, Vincent?”

“Ah,” he said and tucked his face into his cowl.  “I was telling him to wake up.”

“Wake up, KITTY?” Aerith teased gently, and Vincent hauled his cowl around his face.

Cid was quite blunt.  “Now that that subject’s over, Vincent, your mother’s materia.”

Vincent pulled it from his shirt and held it out.  “Oh, it’s beautiful!” Aerith sad and reached to touch it, and Cid gripped her hands and pulled them away.  “Ow, hey, that hurts!”

“Sorry, kid, but that thing’s damn fuckin’ powerful!” Cid insisted and let go.  “Vincent, you TOOK it?  I thought you locked it away!”

“I did, then I unlocked it.  I couldn’t leave it behind.”  He looked down to the little robot.  “Also, I’m glad you’re awake now.”  Cait Sith stuck his tongue out at Cid.

“Vincent, that thing took the head clean off of a summons.  You’re burned because of that thing!”

“Wait, what?” Aerith asked and Vincent snorted heavily through his nose.

“He’s got a massive fucking burn on his right foot, back and left hand,” Cid explained.  “Don’t look at me like that!  You almost died!  Your heart stopped!  You stopped breathing!  I had to give you CPR!”

Vincent blinked, startled.  “You didn’t tell me that part.”

“It didn’t, look, I thought you waking up thinking you licked an ashtray would have been a clue.”  Cid shook his head.  “‘sides, I thought you’d be embarrassed.  Or something.”

“You had that on the other night, when you were sleep casting,” Cloud said in a worried voice.

“It doesn't work like normal materia.  I don’t know what it is.”

“That goes in the box, mister,” Cid said.

Vincent’s voice was ruffled and breathy.  “We’ll discuss this later.”  He got up and walked away, and Cloud hauled on Cid’s shoulder to keep him from following.

“Vincent, Vincent, wait!”  Aerith called to him.  “Please, just let me see the burns!” Aerith begged.  “I might be able to help!”

“They are fine,” he hissed, and sighed softly through his nose once he saw how hurt Aerith was at his acidic tone.  “They do not hurt.”  Aerith upt put her hand on Vincent’s arm, and he tried to keep walking, but he stopped, unwilling to drag her along.  “You will not rest until you see them, will you.”  She smiled hopefully at him, and he sighed, a full body sigh.  “Very well.”

They walked away from the camp and found a quiet spot, and he pulled off his cloak and mantle.  “I know you’re a private person, Vincent, but I worry for you.”  He was quiet as he turned around and pulled his gloves off, then his shirt.  “Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”

She looked at his fingers, blackened but flexible.  “I don’t understand, this shouldn’t have healed like this.  This was last week?”

“My body is no longer a mortal human’s body.  Believe me when I say it does not hurt.”  Aerith gestured to his back and Vincent pulled off his undershirt.  He could feel her fingers touched the pink starburst on his back.

“There’s nothing I can do for this.”  He nodded and her and started to dress again.  “Can I see your foot, too?” she asked and he shook his head.

“I am not taking my pants off.”

“What, are you wearing pantyhose or something?” she asked in a falsy cheerful voice, trying to keep her chipper nature.  “You are?”

“Woolen hose.”  She blinked at him.  “I dislike socks.”  As he was tucking his shirt into place, making sure to button the bottom of his undershirt to his hose, and shook her head at him.

“It’s almost a hundred degrees and you’re wearing WOOL TIGHTS?  Under wool pants?  And two wool shirts?  And your cape?  Two capes?  No wonder Cid’s worried about you!” she exclaimed in both annoyance and disbelief.

“The man watches me too much.”  Vincent’s voice held a tint of bitterness.

“Vincent,” Aerith said as she put a gentle hand on his arm.  He pulled away sharply, his bitterness at Cid’s meddling and watching giving his motions more roughness than he intended.  “Cid cares about you.”

“Then why is he so annoying?” Vincent hissed and started to walk back to camp.  Once he made his exit clear he paused and waited for her, unwilling to leave her off the path.  He stopped and turned and nodded towards the shore, but she remained where she was.

“You’ve loved someone, right?  Not just been in love, honestly loved?”  Vincent snorted at her.  “Wouldn’t you do anything to help them?  And them you?”  Vincent stood silently, thinking.

His father bore a series of burns on his right arm and leg from rushing into his mother’s burning lab.  He also once dove off of a wall to try and save him when Vincent fell as a child.  His mother took a log from the campfire and swung at a cockatrice while on an excursion, holding the beast off until his father could toss her her fencing sabre.  And Vincent had not reacted well when someone started harassing his friend Lumo.

“He doesn’t understand exactly how he feels, and either do you.  That’s something only you two can fix.”  Vincent kept himself from huffing and nodded again to the shore.  Aerith nodded and followed.

 

\--- 

 

“Hey, Vince?” Cid asked softly.  Cid was sleeping near, but not next to, Vincent.  “You mad?”  Vincent gave a soft noise and pulled away from Cid’s fingertips.  “I’m sorry, but, that thing, Vincent.  It scares me.”

Vincent wasn’t sure what upset him the most.  The coddling, or the thought that he couldn’t control his own abilities.  “You don’t trust me with it.”

“Vince, you almost set fire to the trees a couple nights ago!”  Vincent inched away.  “You’re a powerful caster, and I am scared.”

“Of me?”  Vincent’s voice held a tint of hurt, and Cid didn’t know what to say.  “Get some sleep.”  Cid inched closer and Vincent stood up.  “I’m going for a walk.”  When Cid sat up Vincent simply drifted into the air and vanished.

“Vincent, I’m sorry,” Cid said quietly and dragged his jacket around his shoulders.  Despite the heat it was a cold night.


	18. FFVII Sidequest - 18 - Deceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent and Yuffie put their skills to good use. Cait Sith gets a little costume.

Cid pat the hull of the Tiny Bronco sadly.  Once the left engine blew, the right engine followed, and Cid knew it was over.  “I’m so sorry.”  They had emptied all the supplies and useful gear, and pushed her out into the waves.  “You were a good plane.  Godspeed.”

Cid gestured and Vincent brought his hands down, fire racing through the hull and canvas, leaving nothing but a burning wreck slowly moving out to sea.  Hopefully it wouldn’t draw too much attention as it sunk.

They tramped forward for a while, finally spotting the outskirts of Bunt.  “OK, I’m gonna go get supplies!  Ninja away!” Yuffie cheered as she bolted.

Vincent shouldered his rifle and kept walking as the others started to make camp.  “And where are you off to?” Barret asked, and Vincent looked over his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”  He didn’t nod, but kept walking.

“Damn, Cid, what did you say to him?” Barret asked as he put the cooking set down.

“What’s going on?” Cloud asked as he put the tarps down.

“Cid and Vincent are arguing,” Aerith said quietly.

“Has he tried giving Vincent back his boot?” Nanaki asked and Barret laughed louder than he meant to.  They all glanced at Cid who shook his head and turned away.

“Well, nothing to do until the raiding party gets back,” Tifa said.  “Let’s try and find some lunch.”

 

\---

 

Cid was amazed and terrified at how quickly Tifa gutted the deer Nanaki had dragged back.  “That was a bit traumatising,” he admitted as she let Nanaki have the offal and the ears.  “You, eh, got a little something, right here.”  Cid gestured at his left ear and Nanaki shook his head.  “Yeah, that’s got it.”  He spat out his grass and found another suitable stalk.  

“Need a nicotine fix?” Aerith as and he ignored her.  

Nanaki suddenly perked up.  “Car.”  They all took cover as a truck, more rust than metal, rumbled into camp.  Barret took careful aim, but when Yuffie popped out he lowered his arm.

“You got a truck?  Who’s driving?” Cloud asked in amazement.  The bed had a few barrels and boxes, and Vincent turned the truck off and climbed out the window.  “How did you get that?”

“I am Vincent Valentine.  Formerly of the Turks.”  He pulled a box out and handed it to Cloud.  “A tent.”

“The longer you stay awake the more you remember you can do,” Cid said with a grin, and Vincent blinked and sighed softly through his nose.  He was still upset over Cid’s fussing.

“We got clothes!” Yuffie said brightly.  “And a barrel of apples, and some corn, and some tents,” she continued.

“And some materia,” Vincent said flatly as he pulled the second tent out.  “Some earthen materia.”  Yuffie screwed her face at him and handed a bag to Tifa.  “I was thinking of a plan.  Cid will drive Yuffie and I to Junon.”  He handed Cid the keys, dropping them in his palm without touching his fingers.  “Cid will remain on the docks, possibly a migrant worker.  They still have those, yes?”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Cid said as he examined the truck.  “Just me and old Betsy here, lookin’ for work.”

Vincent did not want to admit that Cid naming things amused him so he pulled his mantle on and settled in it.  “Yuffie and I shall pose as Wutain tourists, scout the boats, and steal one.”

“But you’re not Wutian,” Cloud pointed out.

Yuffie suddenly bounced into place next to Vincent.  “Here’s the thing, most people don’t know what Galians look like.  They’re always drawn in horror comics and movies having yellow skin.”  Vincent clearly huffed at this.  “They’ll think he’s just my slightly tan brother!”

“Bit of a problem, though,” Barret said.  He gestured at his eyes, to Vincent’s, and back to his.  “Distinct.”  He walked over and handed Vincent his sunglasses.  “Here.  You’re blind or something.  Tired of you squintin’ all the damn time in the sunlight, too.”  Vincent pulled them on and adjusted the ears a little.

“And so mèimei, we go to see the boats in the Harbor Junon.”  Vincent’s voice suddenly carried a thick  Fēnyīn accent.  « I’m a little out of practice but it will work, yes? »

« Why do you speak Fēnyīn? » Yuffie asked, suddenly suspicious.

“You’re full of surprises, Mr. Valentine,” Aerith giggled.

« I was part of a scouting team to Wutai.  I did not fight in the war, thought I admit I helped make it thing. »  Yuffie was quiet as she gave Barret an oversized jacket.  « I am deeply sorry. » 

« Shinra did a lot of bad things. »  She wasn’t happy, and she was unsure of how she felt.  « It’s passable, maybe for someone living abroad. » 

“So, you’re going to be a Wutian for a day,” Cloud mused.  “It might work.  I’ll admit I didn’t know you were Galian.  I thought you were, you know, half Wutian, half Midland or something.  This might work.”

“I’ve always wanted to ride a yacht!” Aerith said excitedly.  “They look like fun in the movies!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.  Cid, Yuffie and I should get some rest, we’ll need to be up early.  Migrant workers live by the sun still, I assume?”  Barret nodded and Vincent started to set up the first tent.  “Cid should stay with me, we’ll be up at the same time.”

 

\---

 

“Hey, Vince?” Cid asked as he rolled over.  “I feel really stupid apologizing all the time, but it’s only because I do shit.”  Cid could see a faint red reflection on the tent wall.

“You’re very pushy.  You leave no breathing space.”  Vincent settled deeper under the quilt.  

“I see why your parents had those rooms, now.  You guys really are a private lot, aren’t you?”  Vincent gave a hum.  “I guess, well, back home, I mean, back in Gold Palm, it was seven of us in a three bedroom house.  Had a dining area and a kitchen, sorta, that was it.  We’re used to being close.”

“How can people who live in such close quarters be so close?” Vincent asked, and Cid was certain he was going to say loud instead of close.

“Just different cultures, I guess.”  Cid lay back down, and pulled his own quilt up.  Vincent had assured them they were from the estate of a Shinra executive, and one day, he might tell them about it.  “Night.”

“If you want to,” Vincent said quietly, “you can talk until you fall asleep.  I will listen until I do.”

“I think you need space.  You step back and I step forward.”  He could hear Vincent's positive hum.  “Come to think of it, everyone in Arcata kept about an arm’s length away.  How can a language so quiet work as such a distance?”

“We all wear wool.  Get too close and you get sparked,” came the answer so quiet Cid might have imagined it.  Cid’s laughter started small, but more than anything, the idea of Vincent cracking jokes was funnier than the joke itself.  A few minutes later he imagined getting sparked in the nipples and he started laughing again.  He heard movement and looked over, and he saw Vincent sitting up and staring at him.  “It’s not that funny.”

“No, it isn’t.  Get some sleep.”  Cid continued to giggle for most of an hour.

 

\---

 

Vincent was standing with his hands in his pants pockets, head tilted upwards, an arrogant and bored expression on his face.  He was wearing embroidered slippers, loose pants rolled almost to his knees, a tank top, Tifa’s suspenders and Barret’s sunglasses, and Yuffie had braided the bottom of his braid.

“Name’s Sogetsu, I’m twenty five.  Partially blind from grass plague, parents were in the Guton concentration camps.”  He sighed and adjusted one of his belts.  Vincent pulled on some half gloves they had lopped the fingers off of, and Yuffie piled bangles on his right arm.  “Little Sister and I want to watch the boats.”

“It’s missing something,” she mused, and Vincent walked over to Cid.  He pulled Cid’s jacket from his shoulders, clicking his tongue and muttering about how function and form needed to be wed, and hauled it on.  Despite being taller than Cid, Cid’s jacket hung on his like a child wearing his father’s coat.  “Perfect!  Let me smudge your eyes.  Trust me, people did this.  It help block the light.”

Yuffie had also paled his face a little, since she was more ivory than he was.  “It has the added benefit of being irritating,” Vincent muttered, and he tried not to rub his eyes.  To his memory it was a good impersonation of someone with grass plague.  Granules would grow in the eyes, causing blindness and irritation, and they looked like grass seeds, hence the name.

“Hiiiiii,” Yuffie waved at them.  “I’m Kazuki!”  She huffed.  “Bored already.”  She was wearing her boots, a pair of sloppy pants she and Tifa had sewn a gusset in the middle of to so the crotch hung near her knees, and a chain belt over a hip-length shirt slit almost to her breasts, held together with a slender silver chain.  She wore wrist cuffs over the long sleeves, and she had bloused them.  They had slashed the top of the shoulders so her sports bra peeked through, and she had tied Aerith’s pink ribbon around her neck into a tiny knot.  She had given herself bright makeup and super high cheekbones, then pinned a tiny bow into place in her bangs.  “We’re tourists.”

“You’re about the most touristy pair I’ve ever seen!” Aerith laughed.  “Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

“We’ll be fine,” Yuffie chirped.  “I’ve got a few darts, and we’ve got some small materia in our jewelry.  Vincent can make it work.”

“Barret, please mind my rifle and revolver, please.”  Barret took them with a solemn nod and placed them in his tent.  

“Ok, Cait’s ready!”  Tifa had dressed Cait Sith in a cactaur onesie, and he did a twirl.  Yuffie picked him up and set him in her tote.

“Are you sure you don’t take your gun, or a knife or something?” Nanaki asked.

“I can do without.  It’s my gauntlet I’ll miss.”  He gripped his left arm above his wrist again.  He couldn’t stand jewelry on it, so it was bare.  “Turks are trained well in missions without weapons.”  Tifa held his gauntlet out and Vincent shook his head.  “It’s too obvious.  And when you take something like that into the field, it’s hard to resist using it.”

Cloud nodded at them.  “OK, we’ll mind it for you.  Take care, you two.”  They climbed into the bed of the truck and Cid started it up.

“Ah, driver, the payment for you, ya?” Vincent said and held up three cigarettes through the window.

“Praise Alexander!” Cid sighed as he lit one up.  “OK, let’s get this show on the road!”

 

\---

 

« This place is so uncomplicated, » Sogestu sighed.  « The buildings are so naive. »  

Kazuki sighed.  « I’m bored. »  They sat at the table at an outdoor cafe, sipping tea and eating salad.

« Are there boats in the harbor? »  Kazuki sighed at her brother.  « Zuzu, are there boats in the harbor? »  

« Yeah, there are. »  She sipped her tea and Sogestu reached for his.  Kazuki slid it in place and he took a drink.  « The tea here sucks. »

« Let’s go look at the boats. »  They stood, having eaten little and leaving their trash, and wandered into the street.  They walked into traffic, not caring about the cars, and chatted as they forced their way through groups of other people as if they weren’t there.  They stood in the middle of the sidewalk as Kazuki described store fronts to him, and they made their way to the docks.

They simply took a table at another cafe near the docks and  Kazuki put her feet on the table.  « Excuse me. »  Neither of them was expecting anyone else to speak Fēnyīn, nor were they expecting a Turk, much less one of Wutain heritage.  Tseng kept an even expression as he looked down at them.


	19. FFVII Sidequest - 19 - Vincent Valentine, Formerly of the Turks and Yuffie Kusaragi, Descendant of the Shinobi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent and Yuffie take part in an '80s action movie scene to help their fellow AVALANCHE members out.

“Yo.”  Vincent pat his pockets for a cigarette and held one out the Tseng.  Tseng took it and pocketed it and continued to stare.  « Hello. »  Vincent wondered just how much trouble he and Yuffie were in, now.  Why a Turk?

« You’re being a nuisance. »  Tseng was standing, hands behind his back, eyes firm, face stoic.

« I want my smoke back. »  Tseng didn’t move.  « Little sister? »

« Some guy in a suit. »  

« Ah. »  Sogestu looked in his general direction.  « Coffee. »

« I don’t think he’s a waiter, » Kazuki said in a bored voice.

«  Ah. »  Sogestu looked in Tseng’s direction again.  « Can you get the waiter? »

« Why do you act like this? » Tseng demanded.  « It’s embarrassing for everyone. »

« Hey, little sister, get us some coffee. »  Kazuki nodded at her brother, sighed, and stomped off.  « Hey, sit with me. »  Sogetsu gestured in the vague direction of a chair.

« I’ll do no such thing. »  Sogetsu shrugged at Tseng.  « You’re acting like idiots!  What would your parents think? »

« Never knew them. »  Sogetsu sighed and gestured at Tseng.  « Look, I’m not smart enough for a suit.  Zuzu and I don’t have much money.  If I act the fop, people leave us alone.  »  He resisted rubbing his eyes and sighed.  He then placed his left hand on his face, thumb on his jawline and index finger in front of his ear in an ‘L’ shape.  It was old Turk sign language for ‘all clear,’ in an urban setting.  « I just wanted to watch the boats a bit.  But Zuzu doesn’t know anything about them. »  Tseng’s expression softened a little.  « Oh, there’s a little one.  There’s a large one.  That one has a flag.  »  He had pitched his voice up as he mimicked Kazuki.

« There’s not much of a showing today, » Tseng said softly.  « There are six Arrow patrol boats, those are near the shore. »  Tseng pointed to the smaller craft, and Sogetsu nodded.  « There’s the tug boat, it’s hauling in a submarine chaser.  The tug boat has that duel horn flag up again, they’ll be in trouble again.  It’s non regulation.  There are two yachts, the presidential yacht and an officer’s yacht.  »

Tseng’s phone rang and he turned away from Sogetsu.  « Excuse me. »  “Tseng speaking.”

“We found a scuttled plane matching the description of the refugees, two miles south of Bunt.”  Vincent’s excellent hearing could pick up the conversation, but part of it was blurred from traffic.

“Understood, keep me informed.”  Tseng snapped his phone shut and stood up.  « Excuse me, that was work.  I’m needed.  »

« Hey, thanks, » Sogetsu said  softly.  « It means a lot of tea. »  Tseng nodded and bowed shortly and Sogetsu bowed as well as he could sitting, and Tseng walked away briskly.  Sogetsu continued to pretend to watch the boats, waiting for his sister to return with his coffee.

Kazuki slipped next to him and wrapped his hand around a cup of iced coffee.  « Rufus’ yacht, right? » she hissed, and Sogetsu nodded.  They drank their coffee and Kazuki texted Cid, filling him in.  « Blossom always said she wanted to ride a yacht! »  They two rose and left their coffee on the table as they walked down to the docks.

The closer they got the less suspicious they appeared.  They shed their accessories and took to the sidewalk, and Yuffie somehow managed to pull her turtleneck crop top on as she stuffed her baggy clothes in the bag, and Cait Sith protested softly.  Vincent had a sudden flashback of him and a fellow Turk, Nodachi, commit grand theft tank.  Hopefully this mission ended as well as the tank mission.  He had been given a powerful water materia for that, and he suppressed the memories as he and Yuffie broke into a run.

“What is that device?” he asked as he pointed to a weird water motorcycle.

“I forget the Midland, but it’s our ticket to the yacht!  C’mon!”  Yuffie hoped in front and Vincent gripped her shoulders as she gunned it, and Vincent was impressed with its kick.  “Jetski, it’s a jetski!”

“Cait, get ready.  We’ll distract everyone, you get to the controls and take over.  Can you do that?” Vincent asked and shoved Cait Sith back into the bag.

“A little late to ask, Vince!” Yuffie yelled as she adjusted the speed.

“I can do it!”  Cait Sith’s voice was hardly audible.  “It’s all computers, anyways.”

“If if were old fashioned, it would be harder,” Vincent said ni Yuffie’s ear.  He wrapped an arm around her waist.  “Ready?”  She nodded and turned into a skid and leapt, and the ninja, former Turk and robotic cat rose and launched themselves onto the ladder of the yacht.  Vincent boosted Yuffie up the ladder.

Surprise was on their side, and was a powerful tool as Yuffie rolled onto the deck and launched a barrage of darts and smoke bombs.  Vincent leapt over her, landed a snap kick onto a guard and relieved him of his side arm.  He quickly shot two guards, spun a kick into a third, and stopped seconds from plowing into the tip of a blade.

Tseng stood, frowning, jian held at Vincent’s eyelevel.  He tilted the blade.  “Who are you?  And don’t say wandering Wutians.  I’m not stupid.”

“Would you believe a traveler in the night?” Yuffie asked.

“You’re not even Wutian!” Tsend snarled at Vincent, his normally cool demeanor briefly fragmented.  “Your slang is twenty years out of date.  And no one goes blind from grass fever any more.”

“You didn’t tell me there was a cure, Kazuki,” Vincent said dryly, hands up.

“Oh, um, kinda forgot that part, Sogetsu.”  She gave a brief smile.  “My bad.”  Vincent spotted Cait Sith sneaking into the control room.  How did a three foot cat in a cactaur outfit ever many to not get caught sneaking?

“We should take our leave, Zuzu.”  Tseng launched and Vincent parried, almost forgetting his didn’t have his gauntlet on.

“Catch!”  Yuffie launched it at him and Vincent hauled it on and buckled it while rolling.  He was irritated she had it, but grateful at the same time.  He let Tseng’s blade hit the wrist cuff and twisted, catching the blade as he turned and brought his right leg up to strike Tseng’s waist.

Tseng pulled back and lunged forward again, and Vincent’s gauntlet sparked as Tseng’s jian tried to cut through.  The damage done to the gauntlet earlier started to show, and Tseng twisted his jian, and Vincent brought his arm down.  Tseng tried to strike Vincent’s temple with his palm, but Vincent had better reach and leaned back.

Yuffie rolled from guard to guard, striking one in the back of the knee before launching a dart at the second and a smoke bomb to the face of the third. She ripped off an armlet and went to fling it to Vincent, but thought better of it.  Instead she engaged Tseng’ blind side, stabbing at his knee with a kunai.

Tseng brought his leg up and twisted, almost impaling Yuffie, but she was already moving.  Vincent rolled to her and knelt, and she launched herself off his knee and into Tseng’s face.  The current leader of the Turks gripped her shirt and slammed her into the ground, and Vincent caught his waist in a kick.  

If he had been wearing his sabatons and not tourist slippers it might have been a fatal blow, a fact not lost on Tseng.  Vincent held his gauntlet fingers together and stabbed, and Tseng barely parried them away.  Vincent slashed and parried again and Yuffie checked her phone.  “We gotta go!” she insisted and Vincent nodded.  “Toodles!” she shouted as she and Vincent ran to the edge of the yacht.  

They leapt and he glided them to the jetski, and Tseng was on his phone in an instant.  “Two intruders, a Wutian and someone posing as one, on a blue and red jetski.  Capture them alive.”  That style was familiar.  Everything about Sogetsu was familiar, but Tseng couldn’t place it.  It was like when he was sparring with Veld Verdot, the previous director, but not quite.  Who was that man?

Vincent and Yuffie sped to shore.  “Cait will buzz us once he’s got control of the boat,” Yuffie shouted at Vincent.  “You’re really cool for an old man!”  Vincent snorted and Yuffie twisted right.

They passed between two of the Arrow class patrol boats, and Vincent barely got a shield spell up as a rain of bullets fell to them.  “Get us to shore, that car!” he snapped in her ear and the ninja girl nodded.  Jet Skis were not fun, Vincent decided.  They got spray everywhere, moved oddly and were unnecessarily loud.  At least Barret’s sunglasses helped with the glare.

Yuffie gunned the engine and skid up a ramp, and they hopped off.  Vincent fired three rounds at the soldiers near the car, and reloaded as he ran, and Yuffie climbed into the convertible passenger seat.  It wasn’t the one Vincent wanted, but it would do.  He hopped into the driver seat and cracked open the panel by the steering wheel.  He fiddled with it, then pulled the little finger from his gauntlet and stabbed it in the wires.  With an expert jab and a twist he got it to start and he hauled his seatbelt on.

Yuffie followed after Vincent struggled with the car for a bit.  “Where’s the gear shift?” he asked as he performed a tight circle and drove away from the dock.  He had drive, reverse and whatnot, but not gears?

“It’s automatic!” Yuffie said.  Vincent shook his head and continued to drive.  “You got a plan?”

“Drive.  Buy Cait time.”  They took a sharp corner and then another.  Alarms all over town were blaring and he skid to a halt as a large blast door started closing.  He didn’t want to get cut off so he quickly made the tightest three-point turn Yuffie had ever been a part of and took a right to their original direction.  “City’s different.”

“Gee, thirty years will do that,” Yuffie said and hit the stereo.  Vincent turned it off and she gripped the dash as he took another right.  “Oh, that’s Cait!”  Yuffie held her PHS tight as she checked it.  “He’s ready!”  Vincent was amazed she could read in the car going as fast as they were, and with a patrol car trying to tap their read.

“Tell Cid and the others to be by the water.”  Vincent took another right, dodging another tap to their flank and flooring the pedal.  For a car with no gears it had a good amount of kick!  “Ever play raging duel horns?” he asked as he aimed right for the car in front of him.

“Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie!”  Yuffie kept up a litany of Vinnies as they headed straight for a patrol car.  

“Watch your eyes.”  Vincent lifted his gun and fired through the windshield, and poured tow more shots into the patrol car.  “Can you reload?” he asked, but Yuffie had her face in her hands.  “Get ready to jump.”  

The patrol car flinched first.

Vincent tapped it as they drove by and the convertible rattled, but he kept control.  He aimed for a clear parking spot overlooking the pier and took off his seatbelt.  “Fair warning, this might not work.”  He pushed the seat back, somehow staying on target at ninety miles an hour, and crouched half on, half off the seat, foot still on the gas.  Yuffie crouched on her seat as well, and once he threaded to cars on either side of the parking spot he gripped her waist and jumped.

Vincent was pleased it didn’t feel like he was going to collapse soon.  Normal sleep and a semi-regular diet seemed to be good for him, even though eating was a skill he hadn’t used in a few years.  He must remember to thank Tifa and Aerith for foisting so much soup on him.  And Cid.

The yacht was moving out into deeper waters, possibly to protect it, possibly because Cait Sith wanted it to.  Yuffie clung to him as they glided over the harbor, and she nudged him.  “Launch me!  I want to rain death from above!”  Without hesitation he let go of her waist and let her fall a few inches, caught her by the wrist, and let out a grunt as he tossed her as hard as he could.

Yuffie, true to her word, launched the last of her darts and the remaining guards and a smoke bomb at Tseng.  She landed on a guard, punched a guard in the temple and kept rolling, kicking another in the neck.  As Tseng advanced on her, surprised they would return so quickly, Vincent landed, what remained of his gauntlet digging into the deck and slowing his movement.

“You’re with AVALANCHE,” Tseng accused and Vincent blocked his strike with his gauntlet, losing the plate of the hand in the process.

“Can you swim?” Vincent asked innocently, and gripped the front of Tseng’s tie.  Vincent had never tried it before, but he now focused on materia he wasn’t wearing.  

The lightning bolt shot both of them backwards, and Yuffie brought her heal onto Tseng’s temple.  The Turk went overboard, and Vincent’s gauntlet broke apart as he dug into the deck again.  He stood, aimed his revolver at the remaining two guards, and nodded his head at the water.  They leapt in.

“We got a boat, we’re bringing it down the shore!” Yuffie shouted into her PHS.

“Get inside, lad and lassie!” Cait Sith said over the intercom.  “This baby’s got kick!”  Vincent and Yuffie quickly entered the cabin, startled at the three tied up crew members.  “A cat’s gotta have hobbies.”  The yacht picked up speed, and Vincent and Yuffie quickly moved through the boat, searching for more staff.  Vincent quickly cleared the last two staff members, and he escorted them to the bridge.

“We can drop them off when we pick up the others!” Yuffie said as she clapped.  “Great Lucky Seven on a boat, that was amazing!”  Yuffie punched the air a few times and launched herself at Vincent.  “Hey, you’re still standing!”  He nodded at her and turned to Cait Sith.

“How long before we pick up the others?”

Cait Sith gave a meowing hum and nodded.  “First pickup in a few seconds, actually!”  He pointed to a pier, and they could make out a figure swinging to them from the radio tower.

“Gee, Cid’s almost as dramatic as you are!” Yuffie teased as Cid rolled onto the deck.  They waved him inside and he gave a whistle.

“You’ll never get away with this!” one of the crew snapped, and Cid waved them off.  “This is President ShinRa’s personal yacht!”

“Good work, you lot!” Cid grinned.  “The others are ready, we only need to stop briefly.”

“Well, this plan went off easier than I expected,” Vincent admitted.

“Oh, they weren’t expecting me!” Cait Sith said proudly.  He had opened the panel on his back and had wired himself into the consol.  “If this were a normal, old fashioned control, this wouldn’t have worked.”

Vincent flicked an errant straind behind his ear and took a seat on the couch facing the one the staff was sitting on.  “Hey, how are you?” Cid asked from a respectable distance of one arm's length.

Vincent looked up at him, considering options.  “Very well.  And yourself?”  

Cid help up an arm, a little browner that normal under his sleeve.  “I don’t get my part of the plan.”

“Oh, Vince was just mad at you and wanted you to do hard labor!” Yuffie teased, and Cid laughed.  They then both looked to Vincent’s serious face.  “Wait, I was joking!”

“I spent three hours in the sun hauling nets!” Cid exclaimed.  "Three hours!"

“Then you need a shower.”  Vincent’s voice was flat and even.

“Listen, asshole,” Cid said, half irritated, half affectionate.  Cid realized he had that mischievous tone he had when he had made the map.

“You were to be our emergency exit,” Vincent explained.

“Incoming AVALANCHE!” Cait Sith said in a chipper voice as he slowed the yacht.

“OK, you lot, off.”  Cid and Vincent escorted the staff to the ladder.  AVALANCHE took their place and once everyone was inside Cait Sith took them to the open sea.

  
  



	20. FFVII Sidequest - 20 - Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuffie is great storyteller, more clues to Vincent's past are learned, and Vincent still can't figure out why Cid makes him feel like he does.

Yuffie had described the adventure brightly, from their subterfuge as tourists to Vincent dealing with Tseng with verbal wit Vincent was sure hadn’t happened, and an exciting duel with flashing sword duels and shining materia battles.

“You should have seen it!  We were in this convertible, moving fast, and he shoots the windshield out, one shot!  And he shoots the car we're going straight for, a duel horn battle, and this guy, he flinches, and we hit him on the tail and he spins out, and he hits the car behind us, and then we’re flying off the pier!”

Vincent sipped the canned coffee Cloud had found in a miniature fridge on the deck.  He wasn’t sure he liked it but it was something to drink and something to hold with his hands.  He had also ignored Cid’s request for his jacket back.  “And we go flying, like, honest flying and we land on deck, and I’m all DEATH FROM ABOVE and Vince just lands in front of Tseng, and he doesn’t say a word.  Tseng flinches!”

She was now on one of the chairs, and she imitated Vincent taking his usual loose fighting posture.  Some might call it sloppy, but others called it open.  “You should see how he fights with his claw!  It’s amazing!  And if he wore his foot armor,” she gushed as she leapt down to the floor, slashing with her left hand.

“Sabatons.”

“Sabatons, he could do massive damage.”  Vincent simply sipped his coffee.  It was weird to hold a tall, skinny can with both hands, and he ended up putting one hand on the bottom, Wutai style.

“How was the mission, really?” Cid asked from his side of the couch.

“We planted Cait Sith on the boat, diverted attention from him, then removed ShinRa from the boat.”  Everyone glared at Yuffie, and she made a disbelieving noise and gesture at Vincent.  “She is not incorrect.”

“You’re so mean sometimes!” she insisted.  “It happened!”

“I believe Vincent can fight,” Tifa said with a nod.  “He was a Turk, after all, and I’ve seen him move.  He knows what he’s doing.”  She stood up and tugged her short t-shirt down.  “I’m going to check out the kitchen!”  She vanished down the steps, Yuffie behind her.

“I should check the engines,” Cid said.  “I want to check for any sabotage.”  Vincent nodded at him as he left, and Cid perked up a little.

“I’m going to pilot the boat!” Cait Sith said perkily.  “How are ya, Vincent?”

“Tired.  I’d like to take a nap.”  He looked at the stairs.  “But not down there.  There’s no air circulation.”  Barret lobbed a throw pillow at him and Vincent slipped off the slippers and lay on his side.

“You have some long toes,” Cloud said.

“You have no manners.”  Barret laughed at Cloud as Vincent hauled Cid’s jacket around him.  Once he was certain his face was hidden under his scarf and Cid’s jacket, he took a long breath through his nose, inhaling Cid’s scent.  Why did the man do this to him?  He faded to sleep as Cloud and Barret plotted their trip to Wutai with Cait Sith.

 

\-----

 

When Vincent woke up he realized he was at an odd angle.  Was he in someone’s lap?  He opened his eyes, still behind his scarf, and looked upwards.  Barret was reading a magazine above him.  Vincent was laying on his side, his head in his arms, his shoulders and head on a pillow in the hollow made from Barret’s crossed legs, ankle on his knee.  “I have questions.”  Vincent didn’t want to admit it but he was comfortable.  Cid’s jacket was draped over him.

“Been sleepin’ ‘bout an hour, Vince.”  Barret had placed his book clip on his gun arm again, and Vincent thought it interesting how just one little device changed Barret’s life.  

“Barret.”

“You were havin’ a nightmare, so I just, you know, you know?  I know you like your space, but I hate to see you suffer.”  Vincent sighed as he sat up, and Barret recognised it wasn’t aimed at him in anger.  The more he spent time with Barret the more he liked the man.  “Tifa made dinner, this place is fully stocked!  She’s worried, so go get your soup.”

Vincent didn’t feel like arguing, so he wandered down the steps.  The yacht was amazingly huge, with a sun deck, a bridge deck, a main deck and a lower deck.  Vincent walked down a spiral staircase and followed the sign around the corner to the kitchen.  

Tifa was slicing meat into thin strips to saute them for dinner, pop music playing on a radio.  She looked up as he walked in.  “Oh, hey, Vince!  I thought you would have changed out of Sogetsu’s clothes by now.”  Vincent tugged on his shirt, humming in dissatisfaction.  “Here, I’ve made some soup.”  

“I appreciate it.”  Vincent took the bowl with both hands.  “You were correct.  Eating is helpful, despite my not needing it.”  He examined the pot of soup and tilted his head.  There were noodles in it, along with some sliced vegetables.

“Are you ready for more solid foods?  I’ve got some strips for the stir fry if you want some.”  She noticed his face paled a little at the meat, and she sliced it thin.  “I can cut it smaller.”

She meant well, and Vincent nodded.  “I suppose, so long as I can still drink it, perhaps?”  Tifa nodded and tossed it into the frying pan, and she looked up at him.

“Do you like mushrooms?” she asked as she gestured for him to sit at the breakfast bar.  He complied.

“Yes, I do.  But I have never had the ones like I had in Gali.  And the goat is so different.”

“You like goat?” Vincent nodded at her as she tossed some mushrooms into the meat.  “We used to eat it a lot in Nibelheim.”

“When I was assigned there, I had hoped it would be what I wanted.  But I never found it.”  Tifa stirred the meat and mushrooms into the soup and held up an egg, and Vincent shook his head.  She pulled a bowl from its safety slot, filled it, and handed it over.  “Nothing seemed to taste right.”

“Yeah, the mutton tastes bad in Midland.  And you can’t get mountain trout, either.”  Vincent took a long drink and nodded at her.  “And proper goose eggs!  Chicken and duck and chocobo are great, but real goose eggs!”  She sighed as she returned to slicing vegetables.  “Are the mushrooms good?”

“The soup is good, thank you.”  Vincent continued to drink.  “There was a food Cid had at the Gold Saucer.  A sandwich on a toasted bread.”  

“Oh, paninis!  Yeah, he was quite fond of them, if I recall.”  Tifa looked at him, and Vincent continued to drink.

“Are you watching me, too?” he asked carefully.

Tifa made a curious noise at him.  “I’m beginning to think you’re using the word ‘watch’ differently than we do.”

Vincent paused for a few moments.  “Of course words shift in thirty years,” he said softly.  He took a drink in thought.  “To mind like a child.”

“Well, I can see that now.  Cid does fuss over you a bit.”  Vincent gave a soft huff.  “Did you want a panini?  I can make one if you like.”

“No, thank you, I just wanted to know an ingredient.  It was green and soft, like mash, but it wasn’t a root.”  He paused.  “I think it was a vegetable?”

“Sorry, I don’t know, it could be a few things?  There’s lots of foods available now that we didn’t have twenty years ago.  Like limes!  Have you ever had a lime?”  She gestured to a hanging basket of fruit.  “Go on, try one.  It looks like a green lemon.”

“Lemon.”  Vincent didn’t know that one, either, and prodded the fruit, curious.  “This?” he asked and pulled out a lime.  It reminded him of a pomelo, a fruit he had enjoyed in Wutai.

“Yeah, peel it, please.  Just put the peel in the bowl there, I can zest with it.”  Vincent made a noise as he realised how easily it separated and how much fruit there was compared to skin, and he pulled a wedge off and sniffed it.  “Don’t you start!  Barret has to sniff everything he eats!”

Vincent put the rest of the lime on the counter where Tifa gestured to.  “Excuse me.  I’ve never seen one before.”  Vincent closed his eyes and took a bite.  His eyes opened wide as he chewed.

“You like it?”  Vincent nodded and finished the rest of his wedge, startled at how much he enjoyed it.

“It’s bitter and sweet.”  Vincent finished his soup and wiped the bowl with a roll from the basket, and Tifa gestured to the sink.  She held up two more wedges of lime, and Vincent wrapped them in a napkin.  “I need proper rest.  Thank you for the soup.”

“Take care of yourself, OK?  Cid’s really worried.”  Vincent huffed through his nose.  “The only reason you were with Barret is Cid was needed in the engine room, and he doesn’t want to crowd you.  He’s trying to give you room.”

“He watches me too much as it is.”

“It’s because he cares.”  Vincent nodded.  “He’s an ass, but he’s got a good heart.  Get some rest, OK?”  Vincent nodded deeply at her and she shooed him out of the kitchen.

Vincent paused at the steps, spotting the sign for the engine room, and he went down below.  The engine room had a low ceiling and tight halls, and Vincent followed the path to the back.

Cid was standing, shirt off, one hand against an engine, head down in concentration.  The room was hot and a little steamy, and sweat trickled down his neck and arms.  He watched Cid feeling and listening to the engines for a minute, feeling his own temperature rise a little.  Why did this man do that to him?  Why now?  His breath came sharply after he remembered how to breathe, and he swallowed, gaining control of himself.  

Vincent walked up, making sure to click his sabatons so he wouldn’t startle him, and Cid held up a finger as he listened to the engine.  “OK, I think I know what this is.  Feels like a belt is loose.”  He pulled his work gloves on, pried open a panel, and peered inside.  “OK, Cait, when we’re clear, sooner rather than later, I need to change a belt in engine three.  Should be the last of the sabotage.”  

He looked over to Vincent.  “Hey, Vince, in that box over there, find me a belt?  It should be coiled and in a clear bag with a cardboard header.”  Vincent prodded in the supplies and pulled two belts out, and Cid pointed to the left one.  Vincent put the right one back and the engines shifted in tune.  They slowed and engine three stopped, and Cid quickly made the change.  “OK, we’re good.”  He examined the belt, tapping a spot as the engines shifted again.  “Here, see, a slice.”

“Can it be repaired?” Vincent asked, not really curious but asking anyways.

“Kinda softa, I can clip it down and seal it together for a shorter hose for another part, won’t last as long but it’ll do in a pinch.  Aside from the vent it’s the last of the sabotage.”  Vincent held out the napkin with the limes.  “What’s this?”

“A lime.  Tifa showed them to me.”  Cid grinned and plucked a wedge up and eagerly ate it while Vincent took a bite out of the last wedge.  “I don’t recognise half of the fruits in the kitchen.”

“Freakin’ love limes, thanks.  Used to steal them from the trees next door.”  Cid spotted his expression.  “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to share something new with you.”

Cid smiled softly at him.  “Well, I really appreciate that.”  Vincent held out the rest of the piece and Cid took it.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you earlier.  But I hate you getting hurt, getting so damn exhausted all the time.”

“Are you done in the engines?”

“Ah, there’s some basic maintenance work to be done, nothing special.”  He spotted Vincent’s eyes.  “But it’ll hold.”  He followed Vincent upstairs and into an open bedroom.  Cid took his boots off, they removed their belts, Vincent hung Cid’s jacket on the hanger, and they lay down together so Vincent could sleep.

 

\---

 

When Cid woke up Vincent was gone.  He sat up, patting the bed, and heard a sound.  Cid turned and spotted Vincent sitting in the chair, reading.  He was wearing clothes similar to his usual wool, some dark pants, hose, and his woolen shirt.  “Feeling better?” Cid asked, and Vincent nodded.  “Thought you were tired.”

“I became not tired.”  Cid stood and stretched, popping his back, and he walked over to the chair.

“What’s this?  World history?” he asked as he tilted his head to read the title.  “Catching up?”

Vincent nodded and he returned to the page.  “Much to catch up on.  Some of is wrong, though.  This isn’t how the first excursion to Wutai went.”

“Teach if differently back then, did they?” Cid asked and rotated his shoulders.

“I was there.”  Cid paused for a second, then nodded.  He felt stupid for forgetting how old this man with a young face was.  “It was not a peaceful agreement to disagree.  Several people died, and I was shot in the arm with an arrow.”  Vincent tapped between his elbow and his wrist on the left side.  “Clean shot, no major damage.  Nodachi almost took a face full of liquid fire, and Hammer lost his left leg below the knee.”

“Nodachi?  Isn’t that a sword?”  Vincent was lost in thought for a few moments.

“When you become a Turk you lose your name.  You are no longer a person, but a tool of the Department of Administrative Research.”  He turned the page and shook his head.  “No, this happened in Inoe Beach.  This was all south of there.”

“Can I asked what your Turk name was?”  Vincent paused, then nodded, and Cid looked at him.  After a few moments, Cid got it.  “What was your Turk name?”

“Fifty Fifty.”  Vincent returned to reading and internally critiquing the rewritten history.

“What, like the .50 caliber?”  Vincent nodded.  Cid had seen him use a rifle more than his service revolver, though.  “Why?”

“Because I was good at it.”  He traced a map and shook his head.  Something in his tone told Cid that the Q&A was over, and Cid looked around the room.  There was a well stocked shelf of books ranging from all sorts of topics, from cooking to engineering to environmental studies, of all things.  Vincent had two history books on the table, as well as a hardbound digest of Popular Mechanics and Science! Weekly.

Cid decided to make a combination of good and bad decisions.  He leaned over Vincent and kissed his forehead, invading his personal space.  “I’m going to grab a snack and do that maintenance.  Enjoy your studying!”

Vincent seemed startled for a moment, expecting Cid to pry or coddle some more, and he nodded deeply at him.  Cid clicked his tongue and finger gunned as he hauled his boots and jacket on and left.  Vincent returned to his studies.

 

\---

 

“Come on, kitty, talk to me!” the voice begged.  Whoever was controlling Cait Sith from time to time was upset at being locked out.  He had called them on the radio, worrying Barret at first, but Cait Sith assured him Shaoiste wouldn’t rat them out to ShinRa.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”  Cait was sitting there, bobbing his head and feet, humming to the radio.  “I’m on a boat!”

“Cait, what’s wrong with you?” Shaoiste asked, and they could hear some soft background noise.  Barret turned off the radio and listened, head close to Cait’s face.  

“I don’t like it when ye turn me off!  When I’m not in control o’ meself!”  Cait sith’s voice was strong and determined, and Barret had to admit he had guts.  Cait Sith had trusted Vincent, who hadn’t even realized cars had automatic transmissions now, to fry part of his robot body.  He didn’t know if he would wake up over it, and decided freedom was worth it, and Barret admired that.

“What?  But you shouldn’t be aware of that!”  Shaoiste was messing with papers, now.  Barret closed his eyes, trying to listen for clues.  A voice was muffled in the background.

“I have an internal clock, mate.  And missing hours.”  The noises on the other side stopped.

“But I never programed you for that!  You weren’t supposed to notice!” Shaoiste insisted.  “How did you get them to help you?”

“He’s AVALANCHE now, Shaoiste,” Barret growled.  “We don’t let people mess with our own.”

Cait Sith clenched his little hands.  “Ye gave me a taste of freedom, and I didn’t expect it ta be so sweet!”

“I will take this into consideration.”  Shaoiste ended the connection, and Cait Sith looked to Barret, grinning.

“Tha means he’s going to try an’ wipe it from mae programming!”  Cait Sith’s little voice had taken on a Eire tone as of late, and Nanaki hummed in thought.

He loved languages.

He loved how Barret had a Corel accent, with his sharp Ms and Ns in contrast to his soft, rolling Rs.  He loved how Cloud, more than Tifa, retained the guttural Nibelheim accent, words crawling from their throats and not their mouths.  Cid had the lazy drawl of a Gold Palm, west coast accent, casual and confident.  Vincent had little inflection in his voice, each syllable as smooth and flat as the next, unlike Yuffie, who almost sang when she showed emotion.

“You get anything, Red?” Barret asked in thought.  “There was an intercom in the background, a phone buzzing, he’s in an office somewhere.”

Nanaki nodded at him.  “And his voice was drawn out, hints of a West Coast accent buried under official Midgard ShinRa tone.”  He looked to Cait Sith.  “Are you sure you can’t tell us any more?”

“Sorry,” the cat apologised, rubbing his head.  “Programming won’t let me do any more, unless I fry all me logic circuits.  As is, laddies, I had to rewire myself a few times.”  His accent was a little stronger, but more level now.  “Explains me accent, at least.  I always wanted to talk like I was supposed to, like a right and proper cait sith would!”

“You’re doing fine, cat,” Barret grinned and rubbed his head.  “Well, you’re sure he won’t fuck with us none?”

“I’d wage me tail on it!  He needs us to find the temple as much as we do, and selling us out to the suits won’t do any good.”  Cait Sith adjusted his crown and sat up straighter.  “Oh, incoming message from an unknown ship!”

“ShinRa vessel, prepared to be boarded!”  Barret and Nanaki stared at each other.  Pirates?  

 


	21. FFVII Sidequest - 21 - Seasalt and Marzipan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Gaea has pirates. Who knew?  
> Vincent and Cid get cozy.

“Did you say pirates?” Cid asked as he looked at the intercom.

“All hands on deck, lads and lassies!” Cait Sith crowed, and Cid screwed the panel down.  He walked upstairs, meeting Vincent along the way, and they all went to the deck.  They could see a gorgeous ship, with three masts and a winged angel figurehead.  Lanterns and glass spheres hung from brightly colored ropes, and the sails were painted with the words of an aria of love from and opera.  Tifa could hear it in her mind, but not place it, though.

“What’s with Cait’s voice?” Yuffie asked, and the radio blared to life.

“Prepared to be boarded, Shinra scum!” the voice chortled, and Cid groaned and shook his head.

“Listen here, asshole!” he snapped into Cait Sith’s face.

“Oi, lad, use the radio handset,” Cait Sith snapped back.

“Right, sorry.  OK, listen here, asshole!”

“Don’t call me an asshole, asshole,” the voice on the radio snapped back.

“Then don’t be an asshole, asshole!” Cid snarled back.

The boice was amused and a bit hopeful.  “Highwind?” 

“Asshole.”

“Cid Highwind, you god damned glorious asshole, hey, I’m coming aboard!” the voice laughed.

“I’ll get my spear.”  

There was silence.  “Permission to come aboard?” he asked politely.

“Permission granted,” Cid said in a civil voice.  “Asshole.”  Cid motioned for everyone to follow him, and they could see a man in a high collared greatcoat grip a rope.  

He swung onto the yacht, walking as soon as he hit the deck with long strides, and he shrugged his coat off and lobbed it at a chair.  He had long, pale blonde hair tied with a pink bow at his waist, milky skin with striking makeup, and he wore giant boots, tight pants and a poet shirt under a vivid sash.  Every part of him that could be decorated with jewelry dripped with it, and up close they could see the myriad of knife fighting scars along his face and hands.

“Highwind!” he cheered, arms opened.  Cid gripped his spear.  “I’m sensing some hostility here.”

“Gabriel Seasalt, what the hell?” Cid asked in an agitated voice.  “Don’t you have an opera floozy to kidnap or something?”

“Hey, do NOT call Sylvia a floozie!” Gabe snapped suddenly.  Cid suddenly grinned, handed Aerith his spear, and he and Gabe embraced.  Aerith floundered under Cid’s weapon and Cloud took it from her.  “How have you been, you goat?” Gabe asked as Cid thumped his back.  Gabe gave everyone a flashing smile and a strong study, then returned to Cid.  “Is this your crew?”

“Naw, we’re just workin’ together.”

“Does EVERYONE who meets Cid call him a goat?” Aerith asked, and Gabe laughed.

“Have you met him?” Gabe asked with a laugh.  “We served together in the second dragoon unit.  He helped me meet the love of my life.”

“And I paid for it with six months in the jail.  It’s not too late to toss you overboard,” Cid growled.  A figured appear on the deck of the other ship.  “Sylvia!  How are you?” Cid called as he waved.

A woman with brown skin and dark hair waved back.  She, too, was dripping with jewelry, with a fluttering cloak in seafoam and teal.  “Wonderful, darling!” she called down in a powerful voice.  “Gabriel, dear, you have just under an hour before we have to go!”

“Thank you, my love!  Love you, dearest!” Gabe called, and sighed happily.  “We finally got married a few months ago.  At sea, under the northern lights.  The whalesong around us, serenading the new moon,” he said with a sweeping arm movement, other arm around Cid’s shoulders.  “The crash of the ice, the hiss of the waves, ah, Cid, it was glorious!”

“Dramatic much?” Cid grinned.  “What are you doing out here?”

“Raiding ShinRa ships, of course!  What are you doing out here?”

“We stole the yacht!  We’re on a mission to destroy ShinRa and save the planet!” Yuffie cheered.

“Well, then, have you heard of AVALANCHE?” Gabe stepped back and it looked like he was preparing a speech.

“Midgard cell, here,” Barret said quickly.  Gabe looked defeated, robbed of a dramatic story.  “You must be the captain of the Roulette.”

“Ah, you’ve heard of us!”  Gabe perked up instantly.

“You do bombing runs and shore raids of ShinRa facilities,” Tifa said with a nod.  

“And now we’re suffering for parts.  Cid, please, help me.  The Roulette is failing.  We were going to raid for parts, but if you can help repair her, we can make it to Junon or Bunt, and do our repairs there.”  His voice was dramatic and his gestures large and flowing.

“Got it.  I’ll be back in a bit, guys.”  Cid waved at the others and gave Vincent a lingering look, winking at him, and both he and Gabe leapt over the the Roulette.  Cid paused long enough to kiss Sylvia’s hand and let her hug him, then vanished into the ship.

“So, who’s the brunet who watches with red eyes?” Gabe asked as they examined the engines.  Of course Gabe would notice.

“Him? That’s Vincent.”  Cid hauled his jacket off and flung it on the steps.  “OK, let’s see this engine of yours.”

“Is he mad at you?” Gabe asked as he stripped his fingers and wrists of accessories.

“What?  No, we worked it out!  He wants more space than I was giving him, is all!” Cid said as he pulled on some work gloves.  Gabe handed him a wrench and they started to remove the panels.  “He’s, he’s from Gali.  He’s Galian.  Pretty private.”  Cid peered inside.  “Looks like you got a bad motivator.”  

“So there’s something there?” Gabe prodded, hopeful look in his eyes.

“Gabe,” Cid said in an exasperated tone, “you know how to unplug and plug a new one in.  Did you get me on your ship JUST to tell me to date my boyfriend?”  Gabe burst into a nervous laugh.  “Idiot.”

“I saw how he looked when I hugged you, how he blushed when you winked at him, I know he has feelings for you!  Woo him, Cid!” Gabe urged as Cid did the two minute job of swapping motivators.  “Treat him like the dark god Hades he is!  Be his Persephone!  Be his romantic hero!  Be his marzipan!”

“I don’t know his stories,” Cid said, and paused.  “I don’t know anything about Gali.”  He screwed the panel back on and faced Gabe.  “It’s so hard to get any information from him, he’s so quiet!  And then I get too pushy, and he shuts down again.”

“Follow me,” Gabe grinned, and tossed a soapy rag to Cid, who caught it and wiped his face and arms down.  “Sylvia, my sun, my moon, my stars,” he cooed, and spun her around.  She was just as dramatic as he was, just like Cid remembered.  “Cid here needs a well mushroom log, and some tarragon sprouts.  His lover is Galian.”

“Tarragon doesn’t have sprouts, my dearest, but I’ll do what I can.”  They kissed and Gabe led Cid to his personal quarters.

“Haven’t been here in ages,” Cid muttered.  Most everything had changed.  The giant world map remained, but the bed has moved to the other side of the room, the desk was new, and the bookshelf was larger.  Gabe examined his collection and pulled out three books.  “What are these for?”  Cid flipped through the books and his eyebrows went up.  “This is Gali!  Um, AEspira!”  Gabe put one more book on the pile.  “Where did you get these?  Gali closed itself off!”

“Gali is not as closed as its government wants it to be.  Trade gets out.  C’mon, let’s get you a box.”  Gabe couldn’t find one, so tied them in a green wool shawl with off white flowers.

Cid stared at the Galian wool, suddenly remembering the portrait of Sophia Snow.  “No, not that one.  And not the red one, either.  How do you have these?”

“Why not the green and red ones?” Gabe countered, and Cid sighed.  “Here, this one is for you.”  He gave Cid a smaller book he tucked into his jacket pocket.

“His parents wore those colors.”  Gabe nodded and picked up a deep gold, and Cid nodded at him.  “Gabe, how?”

“There’s a river, the Aven Es.  It flows into a cavern, and near there into the mountains leading to Corel.  We trade with some of the, well, rebels, I suppose.  They want outside information, technology, they want Gali to move.”  Gabe handed Cid the bundle of books, and Cid slipped it over his shoulder.

“And the mushrooms and whatever?” Cid asked.  “They Galian food?”

“When did you last have limes?” Gabe asked.  “Or seared mahi mahi?  Or real marzipan?”  Cid nodded.  “Everyone deserves a taste of home.  Come on, back to your ship.”  Gabe clapped Cid’s shoulder and slipped a lime into his pocket.  “And you DID serve six months in the brig for helping me kidnap Sylvia.  So I think I can give you some treasures for your lover.”  Cid didn’t have the heart to tell him about the lime Vincent had just fed him.

“Steal,” Cid snorted.  “We stole Sylvia.  You don’t kidnap works of art.”  Sylvia met them on the bridge, kissed Cid’s cheek, and pressed a box into Gabe’s hands.  Gabe and Cid leapt back to the yacht, and Gabe put the box down.  He collected his jacket, pulled it on with a flourish, kissed hands and cheeks and spun Yuffie in a circle, then leapt back to the Roulette and the ships parted.

“Old friend?” Cloud asked as he carried the box inside so Cait Sith could start up the yacht again.

“Yeah, served together.  Helped him kidnap his wife.  Not THAT way!” Cid groaned.  “She was in a bad contract and it was the only way to save her.  I took the fall and spent six months in the brig before I built a plane and flew out of there.  It’s how ShinRa noticed my aviation skills.”

“Impressive,” Barret said with a whistle.  “What’s all this?”

“Stuff for Vince.”  Cloud nodded.  “He in the bedroom with the books?”

“Yeah, reading up on history.”  Cid and Cloud went down to the room, and Cid knocked.

“You up?”  The door opened after a moment, and Cid and Cloud walked inside.  “So, Gabe has news.”  Vincent instantly eyed the shawl and reached for it.  “Gali is not as still as it wants to be.  There’s a place the river spills, and he trades with Galians there.”

Vincent took the books, his expression gentle.  “There were always rumors,” Vincent said quietly.  He clung to the scarf, then folded it and put it on the table.  “What is that smell?  Cloud, the box.”  Cloud put the box on the table and Vincent eagerly opened it.  He took a long and lingering breath over the tarragon, then spotted the mushroom block.  “Persephone, bene sum beneo,” he said softly as he spotted the other herbs.

Cid stuck a cigarette in his mouth but did not light it.  “Everyone deserves a taste of home.”

“Is that a rotten log?” Cloud asked, and Vincent narrowed his eyes.

“It’s a mushroom log.  For well mushrooms.”  He carefully broke one off and tasted it, eyes closed.  “Bene sum beneo.”

“What’s that mean?” Cloud asked, and Vincent opened his eyes.

“Persephone, bless his heart with eternal blessings.  Bene, blessings, eo, eternal.”  He tied to books in the shawl and took the box to the kitchen.  He carefully removed the cuttings, put the mushroom block under the sink, and started looking for something in the drawers.  

“What are you doing in my kitchen?”  Tifa claimed any kitchen she was in.  Vincent gave a soft hum as if he were agreeing with her and found some cotton string.  “What did you put under the sink?”

“A mushroom log.”  Vincent expertly tied the herbs into bunches and looked for a place to hang them.

“I haven’t seen this one before, what is it?” she asked, and Vincent sniffed it.  

“Anise.”  Vincent lingered on the scent.  “It’s Galian.”

“Was that in Cid’s box?”  Vincent nodded, and Tifa gently placed her hand on his shoulder.  “What do you cook it with?”

“Thyme in the goat stew,” he said softly, “and anise in mulled wine.”  He opened his eyes.  “Excuse me, I’ll see if Aerith can help with the cuttings.”  Vincent took the last plants for from the box and took them upstairs.

 

\---

 

That morning Vincent lay against the pillows, a hand width away from Cid, one of Gabe’s books in his lap.  Cid read the book Gabe had given him, a translation of Galian myths and their gods.  Was it really right to call them myths if it was their religion?  Did Vincent practice?  Aerith prayed a lot, and Barret kept a small figurine with him, but Cid didn’t know who it was.  Was it a religion from Corel?  He hadn’t heard Vincent swear with his gods names, at least.  Even Aerith took a name in vain once in a while, Cid was sure.  He suddenly realized how little he knew of his friends, especially Vincent.  The room was quiet, save for the soft jazz playing quietly and Cid and Vincent’s pages turning.

“Hey, Vince, you doing OK?” Cid asked as he sipped his iced coffee.  Vincent gave a soft agreeing hum, and Cid pulled him close, gave him a single kiss on the head, and let go.  Vincent settled again, and turned the page.  After a few minutes Vincent shut his book with an audible snap, and he exhaled heavily through his nose.  “Vincent?”

He seemed restless.  “You’re too quiet.”

“But you’re always upset at how loud we all are.”  Cid was a bit agitated.  What the hell did the man want from him?

“At least you’re you.”  Vincent turned and sat up, facing Cid.  “It’s not fair to force my ways on you.”

“Well, let’s see, what ways do you want,” Cid mused as he adjusted his posture.  “You want some space, and some quiet occasionally.  It won’t kill me to shut up every now and then and not get my paws all over you.”  Cid suddenly gripped Vincent by the shoulders and planted several kisses on his neck and face.  “There, that should hold me for a while.”  He settled back down.

Vincent glared at him, adjusted his scarf, and settled down.  He gently took Cid’s hand, and kissed the back of it softly.  “What do we call ourselves?”

“I think we’re too old to be boyfriends,” Cid mused.  “Lovers seems too intimate for you.  Partners?”

“Too clinical.”

“Well, what would the Galian word be?” Cid asked, amused.  Vincent was quiet for a moment.  “I mean in AEspira.  AEspira is the language, Gali the country.”

“Amans.”  Cid repeated the word and Vincent nodded.  “Your accent is actually quite good.”

“I just try to say it as flat and boring as possible,” he grinned, and Vincent glared at him.  “You have a very stable language.  No jumping around, no high points, just, a soft, gentle language.”  He pulled Vincent in for a gentle kiss on the forehead.  “You’re not like me, all lazy and drawn out and swearing.”  He dropped a long, slow kiss on Vincent lips, one he returned.  Cid slung a leg over Vincent’s hips and straddled him.  “Or bark it out, like Cloud does.”  He landed several rapid fire kisses, and Vincent surprised him by giving hm a soft smile.

“Landfall!” Cait Sith’s voice called over the intercom.  “All hands on deck!”  The intercom buzzed a little bit, and clicked off.  Vincent and Cids’ shoulders sagged a little, and Cid shrugged.  He continued to kiss Vincent, and right as Vincent was bringing his arms up around Cid’s neck the intercom buzzed again.  “That means the both of you!” Cait Sith snapped and the lights flashed off and on.  Cid swore and they both sat up and got dressed.


	22. FFVII Sidequest - 22 - Death Gigas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make landfall, and decide to investigate a local rumor. She makes a return and we finally meet Death Gigas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence in this chapter.

Port Nice, was, not surprisingly, a nice looking port.  They passed a crescent shaped port, lined by white stone columns, and instead went to the less auspicious looking one with the grey stone pillars.  “Are we sure ShinRa won’t catch us?” Yuffie asked as Cid piloted them up to a bay.

“They can’t!  I had Shaoiste scrub the ship’s information.  He NEEDS us, so Cait Sith is calling the shots!”  The little robot cat was quite pleased to be bossing someone else around for a change.  “I also made him pay for fuel and water.  You all go stretch your legs, I’ve got the ship.”

“Hey, hey, Vincent, I’m gonna bug you today,” Cid grinned as they left the ship.  “It’s, like, a hundred degrees and you’re back in your woolies.  I was really quiet today, I think I’ve earned it.”  Vincent did nothing but huff shortly through his nose as Cid tugged on his mantle.  “Just tell me when to stop, OK?”  Cid tugged on his mantle for a while, hissing his name.

Finally Vincent turned to looked at him.  “And why does this amuse you?”  Cid shrugged and Vincent shook his head.  “Novi.  Cid mihi magra novieo es,” he sighed.

“Eternally what, Vincent?  What’s eternal?”  Vincent blinked at him.  Cid was exceptionally intelligence, and somehow, Vincent had forgotten that.  “C’mon, it’s not fair to call me names in a language I don’t understand”

“Child,” he said slowly and carefully.

“I’ll take it over goat any day!” Cid laughed.

“Goat is odbis,” Cloud said as he walked past them.  He put a pit too much emphasis on the space between the D and the B, but it was understandable.

“And how did you gain that information?” Cid asked as he plucked on Vincent’s cowl again.

“I asked what goat was.  So I could call you it.  Cid odbis es.”  He skipped down the gangplank and Tifa tossed him a rope.  He looped it around a column and Cid adjusted it.

“No, no, Spikes, here.”  When Cloud went to walk away Cid grabbed his collar.  “Settle down, boy, you’re learning something today.”  Cloud groaned and Aerith laughed as she walked by.  Cid quickly ran through the motions of using the dock cleat lines to secure the yacht, making Cloud moor the stern.

“But we’re not staying long,” Cloud protested.  

A woman with a clipboard walked up.  “Good thing,” she said.  “Keep track of your little ones.”  Cid assumed she was the dockmaster.

“What do you mean?” Barret asked as he rolled a water barrel down the ramp.  “What’s goin’ on?”  Cloud caught the barrel with his foot.

“The woman shook her head.  “Word is there’s some sort of person in the forest doing experiments on people.  Lots of vagrants gone missing, and migrant workers.”

“How many people have gone missing?” Vincent asked, and the woman sighed.

“At least twenty.  No one notices them, though.  They’re just migrant workers.”  She took their information and left, leaving Cloud and Barret to load the water barrels onto a dolly.

Vincent returned to the ship and a few minutes later walked off, rifle over his shoulder.  “And where are you going?” Barret asked as Cloud started roll the dolly of barrels to shore for exchange.

Vincent simply nodded.  “I will not let this stand.”

Cid followed, spear over his shoulder.  “And you?” Barret asked.

“You guys can fuel and stock up.  I’m with Vince.”  Aerith followed and skipped after them.  “And the kid, I guess.  Vincent's is right, we can't leave innocent people to have science done to them.  We can do this, we’re like and elite force!” Cid said with a grin.  “Except the cat.”

Cait Sith’s voice popped out over the intercom.  “You’re still my least favorite person here.”

“And I’m not a kid, you old goat!” Aerith snapped.  “You might need me.”

“I dunno, kid,” Cid said as he scratched his chin.  “You got your fancy stick?”  Aerith glared at him as she tapped her staff against the dock.  “And materia?  It’s more than just shiny jewelry, you know.”  Cid’s voice was mocking yet amused.  Aerith pulled back and hit Cid in the arm.  “Really?  That all you got, Buttercup?”

“No, no, we talked about this,” Tifa said and took Aerith’s wrist.  “Wrist straight, roll your fingers, lock them under your thumb, straight out, got it?”  Aerith nodded and struck again, and Cid mimed falling over, hand in the air, melodramatic cry slipping from his lips.  “You’re pathetic.  Come on, Aerith, let’s go get groceries.”

Cid laughed as he stood up.  “Naw, naw, she can come.  She can watch my back when I’m carrying Vince home after he passes out.”  Vincent gave a quick stop and whirled at the end of the dock to turn and glare at him.  “C’mon, kid, let’s go investigate a mad scientist.”  He took Aerith by the elbow and led her down the dock.

 

\---

 

Their brief time in town was well spent.  Vincent asked questions quietly and quickly, reading faces and hand motions and other body language Cid didn’t realise existed until Vincent pointed some of them out.  He got the basics, prodded for locations, and finally, half an hour later, they set out.  They were passing through a grassy stretch that led to rolling hills, and several different types of trees battled for plant dominance.  They had to be planted, or accidently imported, and they briefly marveled at a pine tree growing out of a maple.

“I’m sorry gathering information took that long.”  Cid thought it must have been a record, wondering if all Turks were experts at information gathering.  They had to be, to be in the Department of Administrative Research.  “You both agreed to this idea quickly enough,” Vincent noted as he checked the ground for tracks.

“If there are people who need help, I’m the best healer we have,” Aerith said quietly.  “I want to help!”  They both glanced at Cid and he tapped out a cigarette.  

“Well, there’s one thing I learned about myself a while ago that really burned me up,” he muttered.  Aerith looked to him and Vincent examined some ruts in the ground.  “When Shera, when she was in the rocket, and she was going to die,” he said, and lit a cigarette.

“Cid?” Aerith asked and touched his arm.

“I hesitated.”  He took a long drag on his cigarette and held it, then let it go.  “I won’t hesitate again.”  Aeris slung her arm through his and Cid adjusted his step.  They walked quietly for a bit, and Cid decided to lighten the mood.  “So, Vince, break something down for me.  Cid mihi magra novieo es.  How does it work?  Cid something something eternal child is.  How’s it work?”

“It’s a foreign language,” Vincent said patiently and Aerith laughed.  “Sometimes, when people are separated for long periods of time, words and meanings shift.”

Vincent opened his mouth to continue speaking and Cid pointed at him.  “You.”  Vincent tilted his head at him.  “YOU.”

“Cid opinion that is mine eternal child is.  I suppose a better parsed translation is Cid, in my personal opinion, exists as a childish man.  Mihi is an opinion.  Magra claiming something for myself.  Es is more like existing, is in an eternal state of.  Object, verb, subject and modifier, noun.  More or less, I’m a little rusty of the names of articles.”  Vincent picked a path and continued walking.

“You are a man of many wonders, Vincent!” Aerith said brightly.  

“Was it hard to learn Midland?” Cid asked and Vincent nodded.  The grammar alone was strikingly different.

“I was thrown into it rather quickly,” Vincent admitted.  

Cid tried to parse the sentence is AEspira.  “I thrown, no.  Midland thrown into I was quickly.”  

Vincent nodded at him.  “Close enough.”

“What was the hardest part?” Aerith asked.  “When I first reached Midgar, I realized I spoke a mishmash of Northlander and Midland.  I mean, I KNEW one, two, three, and inn, ver, thri, but I was so used to just, you know, switching.  I wish I still spoke Northlander.  I wonder if I still can?” she mused quietly.

“Eleven and twelve.”  Cid and Aerith blinked.  “It’s not ten one, ten two, it’s not one teen, two teen.  It’s eleven and twelve.”

Cid scratched his chin in thought.  “What’s twenty?  In AEspira?”

Vincent gave a shrug.  “Twenty.  Two op ten. Zem is zero.  Nus, nod, trab, tur, gav, nes, sac, ilb, alm, ac.  Acnus, acnod, actrab, actur, acgav.  Nusnus, nusnod, nus trab, and so forth.  Vincent held up his fingers as he counted.

“Would one hundred be, let’s see, ten one, ten two, ten ten one, acacnus?” Cid asked, and Vincent turned and stared at him.  “What?  Am I right?”

“Yes, you are.  Sometimes, I forget how intelligent you are.”  Cid grinned at him and Aerith giggled as Vincent started walking, and Cid’s face fell.

“Hey!” he snapped.  “Hold up, you Galian bastard!”  Vincent paused and examined some fresh tracks, holding up two fingers.  “What is it?”

“Someone very large.”  He gestured to an imprint.

“Looks like, um, a part of the path,” Aethis admitted.  She stood up and held her hands together, listening.  “Guys?” she said softly.

Cid didn’t see the footprint, either, and Vincent gestured to it.  “His feet are larger than Barret’s, but the weight, he’s carrying a lot of weight, or he’s amazingly heavy.  The track is smeared, hard to tell.  His gait is uneven.  He’s dragging something, but the weight he’s dragging,” Vincent mused as he checked another track Cid couldn’t see, “it doesn’t match the weight of his step.  He’s heavy.”  Vincent looked up, watching Aerith with her hands clasped, listening to the sky.  “Aerith?”  

“There’s something here.  It’s angry?” she said, listening to something only she could hear.  “We should go,” she urged and Vincent pulled his rifle from his shoulder.  He knelt and followed the path the steps took with his scope.  His fingers never touched the trigger, and his safety was still on.

“There’s a path over the hill.  I think there's a building down there, unsure.  There’s a perfect horizontal line.”  He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and they continued.  Cid hung in the back, keeping both Aerith and Vincent in sight, spear in hand, watching the trees.

“You OK, kid?” he asked quietly.  For the past few minutes Aerith paused every now and then, listening to something only she could hear. “What’s the news?”  He didn’t understand it, but he knew she knew something was up.

“There’s something here, and it’s very angry.  It’s got the local spirits upset.”  Vincent had moved quite a bit while Aerith was listening, and she knelt down so she could touch the ground.  “It’s made of wrong, I don’t understand.  It’s saying, it’s made of the opposite of us.”

“Vince?” Cid called quietly, and the pale man turned.  When he suddenly unslung his rifle Cid acted, grabbing Aerith and dragging her off the path.  Vincent fired at something behind them, and Cid was impressed by how quickly he responded, and how quiet Aerith was as he lay on top of her.  He crouched over her, took her arm, and pulled her to cover.

Vincent had quickly reloaded and was taking shots at some sort of man shaped creature.  Several sparking bolts and poles peppered its body, and it looked like straps were the only thing keeping its face together.  It had the drained color of a dead body, and Aerith gasped at it.  “It’s in pain!” she hissed, and she closed her eyes.  Cid placed himself between them, but wasn’t sure how to proceed.  It stood there, wavering and groaning, and sparks started forming on its bolts.

“Not good,” Cid muttered as it threw its head back.  It let out a groaning roar and threw itself forward, and Cid scooped up Aerith over her shoulder.  She clung to his jacket as he leapt, but he mistimed and landed on the tail end of the lightning attack.  Before he hit he flung Aerith upwards to keep her from being electrocuted, and he prayed it worked.

Aerith let out a surprised shriek and Cid bellowed in pain, and she landed mostly on him.  He groaned and coughed, and Vincent rushed forward.  He knelt between his friends and the creature and fired again, this time plugging four shots into its head, but it didn’t fall.  Aerith gently put her hands on Cid’s head and back, coaxing the pain and harm from his body.

“Get,” Cid managed to gasp, “kid.  Go.”  Vincent started to reload.  “Please.”  The brunet finished his task, hit the safety and slung the riffle on his back, and scooped up Aerith.

“No, stop, I’m not done!  He’s not ready!”  Cid managed to drag himself to his feet and Vincent leapt upwards.  He scaled the tree quickly, despite Aerith’s protests, and set her high in a pine tree.  “Vincent!  Cid!”

“I’ll get him.”  Vincent leapt down, feet bouncing off of the branches, and he dashed, body low, rifle ready.  Aerith instantly began to climb down the tree.  

Vincent came to a halt and raised his rifle, quickly removing his finger from the trigger once he spotted Cid.  He waited for Cid to move away, slid his fingers down, and fired.  He scowled as it struck a screw on the thing’s shoulder, but did no damage.  Vincent set the safety and slung his rifle on his shoulder and dashed in.  He veered off as Cid gestured, pulling the fire from his materia.  

It did nothing to the creature.  Cid had been trying to draw the thing away, but it had continued to advance.  “I can’t seem to hurt it!” he grunted as he pulled his spear form his shoulder.  “Didn’t care to try lightning.”  Vincent brought his hands up and focused, and when he brought them down he poured his focus into the ice spell.  

Vincent huffed through his nose as he realized it had little to no effect.  The creature pulled back and Cid dived away, and Vincent followed suit.  It landed not too far from where Vincent had been standing, and he floated in the air for a few moments.  He landed and was preparing a fire spell when an oddly familiar sound puffed not too far from him.

Cid fell backwards as the air cannon hit its target, snaring him in a net.  “You again?” Cid snarled as he tried to stand.  A rain of beanbags struck both of them, and Vincent suddenly realized he hadn’t gotten his gauntlet repaired.  The burns from his mother’s materia stung as he blocked the beanbags, holding his breath against the noxious dust.

Vincent ran sideways from the fog, ending up behind whatever the creature was.  He made a costly mistake, however, when he dismissed the creature as a slow, plodding thing.  It whirled, quicker than he imagined it would, and gripped Vincent by the torso.  It whirled back and flung him, and Vincent was barely to levitate before hitting the ground.  Cid was tossed into a tree, and he lay still among the roots, barely groaning.

Whatever the thing was leapt and landed at Vincent’s side, and hauled him up into a giant fist.  Vincent twisted and tried to bring his rifle up, but the creature gripped it and shattered it in its other fist.  “That was new,” Vincent hissed as he struggled to reach his service pistol on his hip.  The creature slammed him into the ground and Vincent’s vision went red.  The thing was looking at the broken rifle in its fist, and Vincent concentrated.

His fire spell ignited the powder in the bullets, and the thing let go as it tried to extinguish its hand.  Vincent pulled out his service pistol and and fired right into its left eye, and the thing shrieked.  Was it familiar?  It backhanded Vincent and he tumbled away.

He was suddenly aware of a pink flash as green magic washed over him.  “Go,” he hissed, and struggled to stand.  “Fire.”  Vincent pulled all of his focus to himself, and brought his hands down with a voiceless scream.  

The flames enveloped the creature and it dropped to its knees, and Vincent struggled to step back.   A beanbag slammed into the back of his head and Vincent fell forward, knocked out.  Aerith shrieked as the thing picked her up, and then scooped Vincent up.

Aerith struggled against its grip, and a man in a black jacket came up and struggled with her for her armlet.  He shoved it in a bag on his hip and collected Vincent’s armlet as well.  A woman Aerith assumed was the mad doctor walked out to them, grinning.  “Finn, my Death Gigas, bring them along.  Faris, the materia, please?”  The man in the jacket nodded and pried the materia from Aerith’s staff, and collected it from the ground where it fell from Vincent’s shattered rifle.  He also examined and picked up the scope, mostly free of damage.  “Come along, now.  I want to get some samples!”


	23. FFVII Sidequest - 23 - Monster Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of torture and body horror.  
> Vincent battles the Death Gigas

 

Vincent groaned as they moved over the hill to the building he had spotted earlier.  “Now, let’s see, put him up against the wall, please.  I need to collect samples.”  Vincent gave a rolling growl from his throat, and Veri Naomi sighed.  “Feel free to help yourself, my dear monstrosity, I know you’re still upset at him.  Potts, the girl, please?”  The blond man took Aerith and held her close as Finn gripped Vincent’s ankle and squeezed until it shattered.  Vincent shrieked and Aerith managed to twist out of Pott’s grip, remembering what Tifa had taught her, and she ran forward to Vincent.

The creature once known as Finn slammed Vincent into the wall and struck him several times, breaking his nose and leaving a massive bruise over his right eye.  Vincent could hear Aerith screaming, but she kept a distance from the rebuilt man.  The creature then took the rebar from the wall and bent it, digging it into the wall, caging Vincent’s neck.  Vincent choked, gripping at the rebar, and his right hand was wrenched from him and pinned to the wall, then his left.

“Not the straps,” he hissed, eyes rolling up.  He heard Aerith scream again and tried to look over.  Potts had her in a firm grip, arms behind her back and feet off the ground, and Vincent choked a little.  He swallowed a few breaths and managed to calm himself.

He had done this before, he could do it again.  He remembered the Marlboro gas he had to endure in training.  He remembered Veld berating him, breaking him.  He was trained for this.  He was stronger now than he was when he woke up.  He had proved to himself, and everyone around him, he was capable of reclaiming his skills.  As a Turk he was made to endure.  Vincent pulled himself together.  He had a job to do.  “Be gentle to her, she is a kind girl,” he hissed, and Veri Naomi walked over to him.

She wore large sunglasses, and Vincent could see the scars he had given her as the beast.  “You are not Subject 13!” she snapped, and Vincent sighed in disappointment at her.  “There’s a different red garbed asset.”

“You might call me patient zero, then,” he said in a flat tone.  Gaining control of the conversation was a good way to gain control of himself, but he could feel himself slipping away in more ways than one.  Could he count on the beast to come out?  There was something deeper inside him, but he didn’t want to let that one loose.  Not yet.

“No matter, I can see you’re still a powerful asset.  The blood I got from you at Dabi’s Path proved more than interesting.”  She gestured to her scared face.  “It didn’t repair the damage, but it stopped the decay of tissue.  I’ll need a little more though, if you don’t mind.  Faris!  The supplies!”  Faris brought over a kit, and Naomi opened it up.  She pulled on a pair of gloves and reached around the rebar at Vincent’s neck.  

“Look that that, no scars!  My theory was right!”  She found a vein on the right side, disinfected the site, pulled out a large syringe, and slid it in.  Aerith squirmed and looked away with a shy sound.  “Death Gigas, be a dear and find that other man.  I think you left him in a tree or something.”  The creature lumbered off.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll just be taking this.”  She filled her syringe and capped it off, then pulled out a marker and wrote on the label.  “Now, for one after it leaves your brain.”  Vincent’s lips twitched, but he remained still as she filled another large syringe.  “Hm, what else, what else?” she mused as she stroked his face, then she ran a finger through his hair.  She nodded as she looped some strands around her finger, pulling them out with the root intact, and shoved them in a baggie.

“Leave him alone!” Aerith snapped, and Potts gave her a deliberate squeeze.  Vincent’s lips twitched again, and Naomi drummed her hands on his face.

“You have such lovely eyes,” she mused.  Vincent stiffened as she probed his damaged eye, and he started to repeat a list of the streets of Arcata in his head.  Eastern Road, Sunrise Street, Curved Hollow, Bastion Street.  “Well, I suppose it will do no harm.  You’ll just regenerate it anyways.”  Pax Boulevard, Nimbus Way, Canal Park.  She pulled out some pliers and Aerith screamed as loud as she could for Cid, for Cloud, for anyone to come save them.  Nova Lane, Bica Street, Curved Hollow South.

“Potts?  Shut her up, please.”  Naomi pressed on Vincent’s socket again.  Mountain Ash Avenue, Pulsa Street, Ducati Way.  Potts slammed Aerith to the ground and pressed a hand to her neck.  “Hold still.”  She pried a small triangle of bone from Vincent’s face and he struggled, his head slamming into the wall in an attempt to escape.  Ducati Way, Ducati Way, what was north of Ducati Way?  Naomi collected the fluids from his damaged eye, and Aerith struggled, her face in the grass.

Death Gigas came back, without Cid.  He stood in front of Naomi, swaying, holding the net, and she shook his head at him.  “I’ll deal with you later.  Faris?  Set up the camera.”  Her assistant did as he was told, aiming the camera at Vincent as she removed Vincent's damaged eye.  His throat closed up and he couldn’t breathe, and the bile built up inside him.  “Change for me, zero, let me see you!”  Vincent’s throat let out a scream that chilled her, and she took a few steps back.  “Good, good!” she cheered as she stepped back.  “Potts, the girl.  I need a new subject, she’ll do.  Now, the man?  Find him, Faris.  Find him and kill him.”

“Yes, doctor.”  Faris reached into his jacket and pulled out a handgun, and Naomi pressed in Vincent’s wound again.  Aeris screamed as Potts hauled her up and Faris started to load his weapon.

The Galian beast surged forward, neck caught by the rebar, and his wrists held in place.  He snapped the air in front of him, and arched his back as he tried to breath.  “Oh you ARE magnificent, aren’t you?” she cooed and Vincent strained against the rebar.  It shifted then shuddered and Naomi pulled back, assessing the situation.  “Faris, forget the man.  We’re leaving.  Death Gigas, protect.”

Potts lifted Aerith by the wrists behind her back and dragged her along, and the beast strained.  The rebar came loose and he lifted it high, the flung it, striking Faris’ shoulder, giving off a shriek more howl than human.  Potts quickly shoved Aerith away and grabbed Naomi, hauling her into the shed.

The Galian beast ripped it’s right hand free and strained against the bar across it’s neck, finally getting free and rolling forward.  It ran forward on all fours and lifted it’s claws high, and Aerith shrieked as it raked open Faris’ arm and side.  The Death Gigas surged forward, grappling the beast, and the beast rolled, gripped the gigas’ neck, and ripped.

The beast rolled away and lifted its arm to strike Faris, and the Death Gigas slammed into him.  The beast gripped the gigas’ shoulder with its jaws and started to gnaw, growling, and the gigas started to spark.  Vincent must had had control, since he leapt over to Aerith and scooped her up.

She pressed her face into the furry chest and could feel every length of fur stiffend from the electrical attack.  She was set down carefully, and the thing that Vincent became turned and roared again.  He surged forward and the gigas brought its arms down, knocking the beast into the ground, and the beast led the gigas to the other side of the ruined wall.

The beast opened its mouth, and a strange clicking noise could be heard.  It inhaled, exhaled, and created a spark.

The flare spell incinerated what was left of poor Finn, and Aerith could see the helicopter taking off through the dimming glare.  When she looked down there was a burning mass of organic matter, and a wolfish creature standing over it.  She carefully walked slowly to Vincent, unsure how much of him was in charge.  “Vincent?”  The beast whirled and glared at her, huffing, and Aerith held up her hands.  “I’m OK.  Cid’s OK.  Are you OK?”

Vincent took a few steps, his form shrinking and shedding fur, and he wobbled and fell to his knees.  Cid rushed over to him, but still missed him as he hit the ground.  “Vincent, c’mon, Vince, wake up!”  Cid sat next to Vincent and pulled him in his lap.  “Aeris, water?”  She reached into Cid’s bag and pulled out a travel bottle, and Cid managed to adjust a limp Vincent in his arms.  “C’mon, Vince, wake up.”  His clothes were mostly intact this time, showing he was gaining control.

Vincent’s eyes opened briefly, and he gave a soft sound.  “You want some water?” Aerith asked and held the bottle to Vincent's lips.  Vincent drank some, then coughed and Cid pulled it away.  

“Was he like this after the other times he changed?” Aerith asked as she held her hands over his body and concentrated on her Cure materia.  “Wait, he’s exhausted, but not wounded.”  Aerith took Vincent’s left hand.  “His burns are gone!”

“Yeah, he, um, his body resets.  It takes a lot out of him.  Let’s get back to the boat.”

“We should let him rest a little before we haul him all over the countryside!” she insisted.  “And there’s that awful woman’s camera.  Hang on.”  Aerith walked over to the wall and picked up a rock and raised it to small the camera, but thought different of it.  She pulled it up and walked back, and Cid gestured to his hip.  Aerith put the camera in his bag and settled next to Vincent.  

The events of the day finally caught up with her.  “That was so horrible!” she said with a sob.  “I hope she crashes that stupid helicopter!”  Aerith gently pet Vincent’s face, then started to gather the pale flowers around them.  She sang a soft song in words Cid didn’t know as she braid and weave them gently into his long, dark hair.

“Nice song,” he said quietly.

“It’s an old Northlander lullaby.  Sleep, sleep, my little child, it is warm inside.  I’ll stoke the fire, now ignore the face in the window.”  Cid eyed her funnily.  “The bees will stop humming in the morning, as I watch the door for you.  We’ll have heartache in the morning.”  Cid, rather possessively, pulled Vincent a little closer.  “I’ll pretend to sleep as you follow the moswin to the edge of the mountain.  Play nicely in the pit of ghosts, I will watch the door.”

“Aerith.  The fuck.”  She laughed at him as she wove another yellow flower into Vincent’s bangs.  “The.  Fuck.”

“It’s an old Northlander lullaby!” she insisted.  “Mama used to sing it to me.”  It might have worked, since Vincent seemed to fade into a deeper rest.  “Let’s get our fancy sticks and head on now.”  Cid nodded and gently picked Vincent up.

 

\---

 

Vincent could smell something sweet, like grass and wildflowers.  He opened his eyes and pressed the soft part of his palms against his face.  “Hey, sleepyhead!” Barret said softly.  “Too bright for you?”

“Where am I?”  Vincent didn’t feel anyone beside him and his arm slipped off the cushion, so he was on a couch.  Barret had guessed right, it was very bright for him.  

“We didn’t want to leave you alone downstairs, so you’re on a couch in the pilot cabin.  We’re moving down river.  Up river?”  Vincent could sense Cid moving and crouching by him, suddenly grateful he had respected his personal space for a change.  He could also feel the curtains being drawn and he went to tug his scarf over his eyebrows.  It wasn’t there.  He felt the top of his head, wondering it it slipped, and felt something in his hair.

He blinked his eyes open and shoved himself up, and suddenly sat up straighter.  “I am not dead!” he snapped suddenly and pulled the cream and white flowers from his hair.

“No, you just looked like it,” Cloud said and Barret elbowed his shoulder.

“I know, didn’t even need to give you CPR this time!” Cid said, confused and concerned over Vincent’s reaction.

“Then why white flowers?” Vincent asked, eyes narrowing.  Everyone looked at him, slightly confused.  “I’m.  Not.  Dead.”  He didn’t sound too sure of himself, though.

“Is that a Galian funeral thing?” Tifa asked, and Vincent took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” Aerith said quietly.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.  I was just so happy to be safe.”  She knelt next to Cid.  “They just smelled so good and were so pretty in your hair, it’s so dark!”

“I,” Vincent said after a breath, “appreciate the gesture.  I was just startled.”  Aerith reached into her purse and pulled out her hairbrush and gestured for him to turn sideways on the couch.  She sat behind him and started to brush his hair out.  He examined his perfect fingers on his left hand, distracted look on his face.  He then noticed his shirt was open.

“We just loosened it,” Cid said.  “Undid your belts, let you breathe.  Took off your boots, you know, stuff.”  Vincent quickly buttoned everything up.

“It is appreciated.”  Aerith tilted his head and finished pulling out the flowers.  She then braided his hair loosely and tied it with a red scrap of ribbon.  “There, now you’ll know I appreciate you and you’re not dead!” she cheered.  “I’m going to help Tifa in the kitchen!” 


	24. FFVII Sidequest - 24 - After Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with the aftermath of Veri Naomi's mutilation, Cid and Vincent finally have that chat they needed to have, and things might be looking up.

“Hey, Spikes, a word?” Cid muttered quietly, and Cloud followed him down the steps.  “Look, he’s gonna, there’s gonna be nightmares tonight.”

“That’s understandable,” Cloud said softly.  “What do we do?”

“Um, if, you known, after he’s sleeping, if you could just come in?  Help me hold him down if he wakes up screaming? I don’t think this is gonna be an easy night and he’s getting stronger.  I don’t want him running into a wall or something.” Cloud nodded, and Cid clapped his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

 

Cloud wasn’t prepared for the pain in Vincent’s voice.  “Ahi ahi ahi!” Cid was up in a second, and he put his hands on Vincent’s face.  Cloud was ready to stop him from running, but so far Cid was holding him still.

“Hey, it’s OK, you’re OK,” he urged.  “It’s OK.” He wrapped his arms around Vincent’s chest, listening to his rapid breath. "You're OK."

“She took my eye!” Vincent cried out, breathing ragged and broken.  “Kob mahi tilus! Mi tilus! Plac, satis plac, ahi, ahi!” He continued to struggle and Cid stroked his forehead, trying to calm him down.  Aerith came rushing in, rotating her armlet.

An armlet which flashed and started to glow as Vincent activated the materia.  Aerith gave a soft cry and pulled back, and Cid’s armlet on the table started to glow.  Cid knocked it aside and Aerith concentrated. It felt odd, like she wasn’t in charge of her materia, but she concentrated on the spell regardless.

Sleep magic could help a person fall asleep, but the rest was not real and he would still be tired in the morning.  Vincent struggled, panting for air, and finally fell back, unable to lift his arms. “You’re OK, you’re OK,” Cid repeated, and held him tight.  “We’re all here for you, you’re gonna be OK. You got both eyes, your body is fine. Vincent mihi magra amans es.” Vincent’s breathing slowed and his eyes seemed to focus.  “You’re OK, you’re OK.” Cid held him and gently pet his face. “Are you awake?”

“My eye.”  Aerith rushed to her room.  “She took my eye.” Cloud sat on Vincent’s left side, unsure of what to do.  “She took it!” Cid gently picked Vincent up and sat him up on the bed. 

Aerith came back into the room, holding a small mirror from the bathroom.  “Here, Vincent, here, look. You have both eyes.” Cid turned the light on low and Vincent gingerly took the mirror.  His left eye glowed dimmer than the right, but still glowed. “You grew it back.”

“It isn’t my eye.  It isn’t my left hand.  Nothing is mine! This isn’t my body, not any more!  He took it from me! He took it from me!” When Vincent lifted the mirror Cloud and Cid wrestled it away from him before he could throw it.  “I can’t be here, I can’t be here!” he hissed and struggled to leave. Cloud held him down, though, and Vincent struggled. “Plac. Let me outside, let me go!”  His voice was quiet and desperate. “There’s no air here.”

“Vincent, you’re upset.  Really upset.”

“You think?” Vincent snarled, then curled up on himself.  “I’m sorry. I won’t yell again.” His voice was soft and broken, and when Cid gently pet his shoulders Vincent pulled away.  “I need fresh air. I can’t be here! I can’t be inside! Let me go!”

Cloud and Cid nodded at each other, and Cloud spoke softly.  “OK, we’ll go on deck.” Cid draped Vincent’s cloak over his shoulders, and they followed his shakey steps to the deck.  Once there Vincent clutched his cloak to his shoulders and looked up at the sky. It was almost dawn and the pink sky started to steal the stars.

“How long was I sleeping this time?” he asked, and Cid worried he was going to have a quiet break down.

“It’s Sunday morning, you passed out Saturday afternoon,” Cid answered quietly.

“Not long, then.”  Vincent’s voice was distant and soft.  “I’m not going to sleep for a while, I don’t think.”

“That, Vincent,” Cloud protested, “you can’t not sleep. You can’t not eat!”  Vincent turned, stepped, and drifted to the top of the control deck.  “So creepy when he does that,” Cloud hissed. “Look, we’re not leaving you alone.”  Vincent ignored him, and Cid leapt to the roof.

“I’m just gonna be here, about five feet away, OK?”  Vincent nodded at him, and Cid nodded back, though he couldn’t see it.  As the sun grow higher and the rest of AVALANCHE started to wake up and move, Vincent slowly lifted his cloak up.  Cid took the invitation to sit next to him, and the sat like that until Tifa called them to breakfast.

 

\---

 

“Well, he ate his soup, at least,” Tifa said as she examined Vincent’s bowl.  He had finished the broth, as usual, and this time most of the noodles but none of the sliced carrots.  “I wish he would eat something solid, though. Liquid diets aren’t good for you!”

“Hey, someone sit with him for a few minutes?  I want to check something out.” Yuffie nodded at Cid and went up to the desk, and Cid grabbed a tape measure from the engine room.  “Hey, Cloud, c’mere for a moment?” He pointed to the bed and Cloud shook his head.

“Not my type, goat man.”  Cid sighed.

“I want to measure Vince’s range.  Get on the bed.” Cloud shook his head and took his place in about the middle of the bed.  “You comfy, Cupcake?” Cloud flipped Cid off and Cid laughed and held out the measuring tape.  “OK, hold this end. Where was Aerith standing?”

Cloud scooted a few inches to the right, trying to gage where Vincent was.  “Foot of the bed, then near the door.” Barret poked his head in the door. Cloud nodded at Cid.  “Yeah, that’s where he stopped using them.”

“Ok, here, and here.”  Cid took the measurements and jotted them down.  He then measured where his armlet was, and his spear, noting the radius.  “Well, looks like he’s got a range of about eight feet. Not bad.”

“Eight feet,” Barret muttered.  “Damn, that’s strong. When I first got some I could only activate the good stuff, and then I had to be holdin’ it.”  He proudly tapped the materia in his gun arm. “I’m a lot better now, though!”

Cloud was quiet for a bit, his eyes fluttering in thought.  “I’d heard of mages capable of touchless casting, but to see it in person.”  He let go of the tape and Cid reeled it in.

Barret nodded.  “And you seen the results he gets from low level stuff, too.  Thought he had a mastered materia, it was only half way done.”  Barret scratched his shoulder, thinking. “Think he can do it awake?  I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“Are you sure that’s all right?” Cid asked.

“Hey, in times like this, treat’em normal.”  He nodded and waved as he went to the deck. “Hey, Vince, got a project for you!”  Vincent was now on the far corner of the cabin, as far from Yuffie as he could get, and he glared like a wet cat.  “Wanna check your matera range.” Barret held up a Cure, and Vincent continued to glare. “You activated Aerith’s materia from eight feet away.  She thinks you Sleeped yourself.” He shook the materia at him. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun.”  Vincent stood, hopped from the roof like a normal person, and walked over.  

“You scared us, but I think you scared yourself more.”  Vincent snorted at him. “C’mon, I’m curious.”

“Very well, we can try it.”  Barret held the materia a few inches away, and Vincent inhaled and raised his arms.  The materia glowed and Barret grinned and stepped back.

“Damn, Vince, I never seen this before!  It’s like, I feel you using it, it’s weird.”  Barret was now almost six feet away, and Vincent was straining.  “Hey, don’t stress too much now!” 

“I believe I shall sit down, now.”  Vincent adjusted his scarf and returned to the cabin, Barret followed.  “This was enlightening.” Barret handed Vincent a can of coffee and they sat quietly.

“Thank you for not making a fuss,” Vincent said quietly.  Barret shrugged and kept drinking. “I am not made of paper.”

“No, but you do tire quickly.  But not as quickly as you used to.  You’re more like glass. Really good industrial glass is pretty sturdy, lasts a long time, but still breaks if hit right.”  Vincent took a sip, holding his can with one hand on the bottom. “You wanna play shuffleboard?” Vincent repeated the name of the game.  “Rich people play it on boats. And, hey, we got a boat!” 

“I suppose we can try.”  Barret grabbed his white sailor hat and they went outside.

 

\---

 

Cloud leaned out the door, sipping his coffee.  “OK, that’s just weird.” Tifa was watching Barret and Vincent argue about how to read the rules of shuffleboard.  Somehow Barret had gotten Vincent to wear a broad brimmed hat, and he was wearing the sailor’s tam from the boat from Junon.

“They’re been bickering for about five minutes now,” she said, and reached for the can.  Cloud let her sip and took it back. “If you read the rules with AEspira grammar, Vincent wins.  Otherwise, Barret does.”

They watched as Barret tossed the book into the river.  Vincent watched it sink and sighed. “There. No nobody knows how to play.  It’s a white person game, anyways.” Barret’s statement was final, and they packed up the pucks and cues and returned them to the closet.

“Would you consider me white?” Vincent asked, and Barret examined him.  “Most people do not.”

“Naw, you got color to you, and your eyes are almost Wutaian.”  Barret stared him in the eyes. “Yeah, you got the shape, almost the lid thing Yuffie’s got going.  So, neither of us got any right playing shuffleboard.”

“Nor Cid?” Vincent asked.  

“Cid’s, what, biracial?  Think he mentioned his mom was white.  So, he can play half the time. But Yuffie, you, me, Nanaki?  No shuffleboard.” He looked into the cabin. “Not the cat, either.”  He waved Vincent inside. “You ever play pinball? They got a machine in the lounge, Chocobot.”

“I used to play some, yes.”  Vincent followed him downstairs.  “It was called, what was it, Fireball?”

“Damn, man, that’s a classic!  C’mon, I wanna see you play it.”  Vincent followed Barret to the machine.

 

\---

 

They ate lunch in the lounge since it was raining, and Vincent sat between Cid and Barret.  Tifa had put a plate of mixed vegetables and meat strips in front of Vincent, and he had quietly been distributing them to the plates around him.  

As Tifa refilled his soup bowl she went to drop a boiled egg in it.  “No.” Vincent put his hand over his bowl and they stared each other in the face.

“Vincent,” she started, and he simply said ‘no’ again.  “Maybe it’s time to try something solid? Besides bread?”  He tilted his head at her.

“The man survived thirty years without eating, Tiff.” Barret said as he took the egg.  “It might take him another thirty to be ready for it.”

“I’m just worried,” she said and Vincent sighed.  “I know, I know, we watch you too much.”

“Speaking of watching, I’m going to go check on Cait.  I want to see how close we are.” Cloud took the egg Tifa was trying to feet Vincent and popped it in his mouth.

Yuffie shook her head and followed Cloud.  “It’s getting tense in here, I’m out!” 

Once they were gone Tifa spotted Cid with his hand on Vincent’s shoulder, their thighs touching as Cid tried to urge Vincent to drink some more broth.  “So, you two need to smash,” Tifa said as she pointed to them. Vincent sputtered on his coffee and Cid blinked.

“We’re that obvious?” Cid muttered and handed Vincent a napkin, and when Vincent was dabbing his chin Cid poured some of his broth into Vincent’s bowl.

“You’re driving us all nuts!” she snapped.  “Whatever’s got your panties in a twist, get rid of it, and the panties, and smash it.  We can’t take the weird looks, the bickering, the lack of smashing, any longer” Tifa brought her hands together.  “Smash it.”

“Stop saying smash,” Vincent asked quietly.  “Please.”

“Fine.  Boink.”

Cid shook his head.  “Go back to smash, please.”

Tifa sighed.  “Just, hear me out.  We can’t work as a team if we’re fighting.  So, get it out of your system.” Vincent said nothing, but his face was as red as he cloak.  

“You’re both consenting adults,” Aerith said and Cid held up his hand.

“OK, look, guys,” he said and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “If Vince doesn’t wanna sleep with me I ain’t sleepin’ with him.  We’re working on it, I’m just not gonna push him.”

“His actions, or lack therefore, are appreciated,” Vincent hissed quietly.  His face reddened and shrunk down into his cowl, then pushed his bowl towards Cid.

“He ain’t paper, and I’m trying to not push him.  We’re in that part of the relationship when we’re testing boundaries, trying to figure each other out.”

“Then what’s stopping you from doing it and letting off some steam?  You’re wound so tight you can’t think straight!” Tifa sighed, and Barret almost failed to suppress a snicker.

“Vince takes it slow, so I will too!” Cid snapped.  “Not that I haven’t tried.”

“He deserves someone better than I am,” Vincent said quietly, and they stared at him.  “He has far more experience in certain matters than I do.”

Tifa nodded.  “Which is why he needs to tutor you in smashing.”

‘If you will excuse me,” Vincent said quietly.  He stood to leave.

“I’ll walk you,” Cid started saying and Vincent whirled at him.

“Do not coddle me!” he snarled.  “Do you know how frustrating it is?  Do you know who I am?” His voice was quiet yet strong.  “I am Vincent Valentine, formerly of the Turks. I am Galian.  I am a sniper and I’ve done more than you know. I am not a child who needs carried on long walks!”

“You keep passing out!” Cid snapped back.

Vincent gripped his left arm as he continued.  “You never ask for permission! You keep trying to control me!  Do not assume to tell me how tired I am, how weak or how strong I am!”  Cid stepped back, startled, as was everyone else. Vincent stood still, breathing heavily, gripping his left arm.  “I am no child, Cid Highwind, and I resent being treated like one.”

He turned and stormed off, and Cid sat back down.  “Well, that sucked,” he said quietly, and looked at his hands.  They heard a soft sound in the hall and Cid stood up. “Vince.” He vaulted the table and skid into the hall, spotting Vincent leaning against the wall.  “Vincent.”

“I... I am fine.”  He took several long breaths, and Cid stood near him.  “I’m still weary from my transformation is all. I was very damaged.”  Healing after a transformation was draining, band not without pain. His ankle had quit screaming at him when he woke, and his face was no longer numb.  Hojo even stole his pain from him.

“Do you need, I mean, want help?  To the room?” Vincent stared at him, exhausted, and finally nodded. 

“Do not carry me.”

“No, no, under your arm.  C’mon.” He slid under Vincent’s arm and helped guide him down the stairs.  They took one of the smaller rooms, and Vincent hung on Cid’s shoulder for a minute.  

He nodded, feeling better, and opened the closet.  “Do you think Tifa is right?” Vincent asked quietly as he hung his cloak on a pair of hangers.

“I think she’s got a big mouth,” Cid grumbled.  “And I meant everything I said about waiting for you!”  Vincent held his hand out and Cid handed him his jacket.

“So this entire time you haven’t been ignoring me?” Vincent asked carefully.

“Wait.  Stop. What.”  It was not phrased in the form of a question.  “Vince, if I thought you would enjoy it, I would throw you on the bed and screw you into a coma.  Right now. And yesterday. Basically, any time after we watched the Kalm Incident.” The movie felt so long ago, they both realized.  Cid suddenly stopped. “Holy hell you were hitting on me. We didn’t have assigned rooms at the ghost place. You. Were. Hitting. On.  Me.”

Vincent sat on the edge of the bed and sighed at Cid.  “I had forgotten that flirting is different outside of Gali.”  Vincent undid the buckle under the cuff of his boot and slid it off.  “Sometimes I almost forget I’m awake, that I even left Arcata at all, and I forget how long I was in Midland.  At Midgar. And I forget things are different.”

“You willingly went drinking with me.  You let me in your room. You want me to sleep next to you.  You want to keep my jacket. You’re horny for me!” Cid felt like a blind man.  Or, at least, a man who didn’t speak the language another man was talking in. The entire experience left him feeling he was watching a film in a different language. 

“I apologize for my behaviour.  It’s like pieces of me are tossed around.”

Vincent pulled his shirt off and dropped it with shaking hands, so Cid hung it up.  “C’mon, down you go, I gotcha.” Cid sat on the edge of the bed. “If that’s good by you.”  Vincent nodded and they lay down. Cid easily wrapped himself around Vincent, and Vincent sighed and fell asleep.


	25. FFVII Sidequest - 24 - Wutai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They reach Wutai and Yuffie reaches their materia.

“Oh, praise Alexander!” Aeris said as the shore loomed close to them.  “Finally! Wutai!” The land was beautiful, vast yet twisting, with a long series of valleys carved into the island by ancient oceans.  Long spires of rock jutted out, some decorated with ropes and tassels, and others carved with spirals and lines. What twisted threes there were clung to the sides and bottoms of the tall cliffs, some with small white berries, and when the wind blew their sharp, spiced scents filled the air.

Yuffie sped past Tifa and hopped off the yacht with a whoop, crashing into Cid.  “Hey, watch it, punk!” he snapped.

“Welcome to WuTai!” she cheered, “my home!”  She hugged herself, grinning madly, and dashed off.

“She just ping ponged us in the hall,” Barret muttered.  “Crashed me into Vin.” Vincent hadn’t wanted to mention it, but Barret had slammed him against the wall and bruised his shoulder.  Vincent was in a bad mood now, and he had awakened so pleasantly, too. Cid was still wrapped around him, one arm under Vincent’s neck, the other draped over his hips and-“Least she helped him up.”  Barret’s voice suddenly pulled him away from his thoughts, personal ones he did not want to share.

“Tried to ride me,” Nanaki snorted.  “Tried to ride Cloud.”

Cloud snorted at the impromptu piggyback that had him roll forward, slamming Yuffie into the floor.  “Let’s just move on. She’s happy to be home, at least.” Cloud moored the yacht against some ancient posts, and Cid grabbed the other rope.  “Maybe we’ll let her stay behind.“

“Guys, guys, this way, guys!” she was shouting.

“I’m gonna stay with the boat while you guys research.  Grab me some broccoli beef?” Barret asked. “I wanna read some of these books on alternative energy Rufus has stashed away.“

“I’ll stay, too,” Nanaki said.  “I don’t like the looks of those swaying, ancient, wooden bridges.  We’ll keep Cait company.“

“Guys!  Hey, guys!” Yuffie kept yelling.  

“We’ll be back once we get some information,” Aerith said and kissed Barret’s cheek.  “Have fun!“

They followed Yuffie up the hill and she rocked on her feet.  “I know this area pretty well!” she grinned, waving at them. “It gets pretty tough past here. Better get ready!” she urged with a giggle.

“Get ready for what?” Cloud asked.

Vincent carefully scanned the horizon before them.  “Is it further down? I don’t see any signs of danger,” Vincent noted.

“Are you trying to con us or something?” Tifa asked.

“No!” Yuffie insisted.  “It’s really tough!” She shadowboxed the air for a little bit.  “Super tough!” The others sighed and looked at each other, but a bullet stuck the earth near Cloud’s feet and they all scattered.

“There they are!” a voice shouted.  “Catch them! Don’t let them get away!“

“ShinRa’s here?” Cid snapped as he shoved Aerith around one of the tall rocks.  She shrieked as a bullet chipped the monolith and Cid fell backwards. Vincent hauled him behind a stone with him, their bodies crashing together.  

“Stop right there!” one of the soldiers snapped.  “Hey, that’s not them! Those are the other guys from before!“

“Kid?” Cid snapped in anger.  Vincent hauled him behind cover again.

“Yuffie, you’re not with them, are you?” Tifa demanded.

“Why are ShinRa here?” Cloud shouted.  
Rocks splintered and chipped around them as the soldiers continued to fire.  “I don’t know!” Yuffie insisted as she ducked behind the stone again. “I have nothing to do with this one!“

Cloud blocked tifa from leaning too far out wiht his arm.  “This one? Did you just say ’THIS one’?” Tifa insisted. 

“So you were trying to pull something off!” Aerith accused her.

“No, um, uh,” the ninja teen stuttered.  “Ninja away!” She vanished in a puff of smoke and Tifa and Aerith coughed and waved it away.

“What should we do?” the second soldier asked, and his commander racked his brains.

“Well, we get them!” the other soldier had responded.  “Grab them and ask questions later! I’m certain there’s a reward!”

“Vincent, cover me!” Cloud snapped as he prepared himself.  

Vincent pulled out his service revolver, hands quickly moving over the safety, the trigger, the magazine.  He scoffed at the empty materia slots. When did he removed his materia? Did Cid do it while he slept? He rolled out from cover, firing twice, and raised his left hand.  By the time he realized his materia on his armlet was gone Cid was hauling him back into cover, and Vincent quickly reached for his right wrist. “My materia.” He rotated his armlet, and Cid checked his.  “Did you remove it and not tell me?”

“What’s going on?” Cid demanded.  “No, I didn’t take it! Remember, I locked it in the gun safe with your gun!”

“I thought something was fishy!” Tifa snapped from the other rock.  “My,  _ all  _ my materia is missing!“

“Oi, where the hell’s that damn kid?” Cid snapped and watched as she slid away across a bridge.  Without his magic Vincent felt suddenly vulnerable. He ducked around Cid and fired two more shots as he darted to more cover.

Cloud broke from behind the stone, lashing out at one of the ShinRa soldiers.  As the second raised his weapon to fire Tifa rolled out with a cry. She quickly lifted his arm the wrong way and brought her elbow down on his elbow, and the man buckled from shock.  She then hefted him over her shoulder and dropped him, and he stayed down.

The first soldier took a shot in the shoulder as he turned to Cloud, and Cloud slammed the broadside of his buster sword against him.  Both men were now taken care of, and Cloud glared at the empty slots in my weapon.

“That little punk ass ninja took all my materia!” Cid exclaimed, and everyone started checked armlets and weapons.  “How are you guys?“

Vincent reached to his chest.  He quickly undid some buckles, opening his shirt and pulling out the pearl drop shaped stone.  “Ha!” Nanaki said brightly. “She missed one!“

Cid all but shoved it back in Vincent’s shirt.  “No, shit, no, not that one!” he said in a panic.  “Put that away!“

Aerith sighed as she she checked her ribbon.  “Oh, Mom’s is still here, too!” She held it closely to her heart with both hands, a sudden wave of emotion washing over her.  Tifa gripped her shoulders, and Aerith wiped her eyes. “I’m OK.” Tifa helped her tie her ribbon back on.

“She left our mothers’ materia behind.”  Vincent rolled the materia in his fingers fondly.  He tucked it into his shirt, wondering if Yuffie was afraid of it, respected his mother’s memory, or just couldn’t lift it without him knowing.

“Put it away, that thing damn near killed you!” Cid snapped and pulled Vincent’s buckle back into place.  “Heh, look at me, dressing you,” he chuckled to himself. He looked up, but no one but Vincent seemed to notice.

“To be fair, bright sunlight almost kills him,” Barret offered and Vincent scoffed at him.

“Anyone have anything left?” Cloud asked.  “I’ve got, Odin’s beard, a fire chip. Look at this.”  Cloud held up a materia the size of his little fingernail, only strong enough to set fire to kindling.  Tifa had her fire chip, and Aerith the ice chip she used to ice her coffee. “When did this happen?“

“I’m never going to forgive her!” Tifa snapped.

“She was after out materia from the beginning, wasn’t she?” Aerith added.  “We can’t let her get away with her!“

Vincent’s crimson eyes scanned the horizon.  “I’m sure she ran off to the north.“

“Well, let’s go get the punk and our shit back!  Let’s go after her!” Cid snapped. vincent pointed north along the paths.  “OK, she’s fast. Can we just get in the yacht and go north?”

“No, we cannot.  Hundreds of years ago King Lau Jìng Bō ordered stone and coral to surround the island to protect it from outside threats.  As a result there are only two major ports we can enter in, and both of those are currently controlled by ShinRa. ShinRa keeps a thumb pressed tightly on Wutai, lest the Wutians regain control and strip ShinRa of important resources,” Vincent explained, and everyone stared at him.  “I am formerly of the Turks. I collect information.”

“You were reading a lot of history books,” Cid said with a nod.  

Cloud nodded as well.  “Good job, good to know.  Any idea how to get to Wutai?”

“We’re in Wutai proper,” Vincent explained patiently.  “ShinRa stripped most of the major cities of their wealth and glory and renamed Jīnchéng, The Golden City, to Wutai.”

“In order to belittle the Wutians, I imagine,” Tifa said softly.  She wrinkled her brow in though. “You weren’t able to fool Tseng at all with your Fēnyīn.  What’s the plan? You’re not going to try it again, are you?”

Vincent shook his head.  “I was not expecting an actual Wutian to be working so high in ShinRa.  It’s not a mistake I’ll make again. My Fēnyīn is dated, but I believe I speak it best out of everyone?”  There was muttered consent. 

“So what’s the plan?” Tifa asked.

“Well, we can’t do much except follow her and try to get our stuff back,” Aerith said firmly.  “They’re a tourist town, now, they’ll speak Midland.”

“ShinRa saw to that,” Vincent said quietly.  He was grateful it had not happened to Gali. It had happened in Nibleheim, in Gold Palm, and the small but one individual nation now named Port Nice.  “Come. We move forward.”

He ignored Cid’s smirk as Vincent started walking towards the bridges.


End file.
